Jonathan Moyle

[Magda Hassan]

Who killed Jonathan Moyle? A British journalist and the Iraqgate factor.

By Barraclough, Colin
Publication: Columbia Journalism Review
Date: Thursday, July 1 1993
A British Journalist and the Iraqgate Factor
Friends and colleagues may never know whether Danny Casolaro - the investigative journalist found dead in a motel room in Martinsburg, West Virginia, two years ago - killed himself or was murdered (see "The Octopus File," CJR, November/December

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1991). This is not the case with his British counterpart, Jonathan Moyle, the twenty-eight-year-old editor of the British trade journal Defense Helicopter World. In March 1990, he was found hanging in a closet in a hotel room in Santiago, Chile, where he had been covering the Santiago air show as a guest of the Chilean air force. Chilean police listed the case as a suicide and British officials told journalists that Moyle had died accidentally in the course of a bizarre erotic act.
But seventeen months later, following pressure from Moyle's father and further examination of the evidence, a Chilean judge reopened the case and pronounced the cause of death as murder. Moyle, it turns out, had been drugged, suffocated with a pillow, injected in the heel with a lethal substance, then strung up in the closet. So Moyle's friends and colleagues know how he died. The remaining question is, Why was he killed?
Much of the speculation centers on Carlos Cardoen, a Chilean arms manufacturer and procurer for Iraq President Saddam Hussein. Moyle's father, Anthony, believes that two telephone warnings his son received during the last week of his life came from a Cardoen aide. He thinks his son may have been eliminated to keep secret Cardoen's role in Iraqgate, the West's clandestine rearming of Iraq. Cardoen vehemently denies any involvement.
Other journalists in Santiago at the time confirm that Moyle indeed interviewed officials from Cardoen's company and several officers from the Chilean air force. What none can confirm is whether he was looking into any link with Iraq. Investigative journalists in Britain keep pursuing this link because, without it, they believe, Moyle's death makes little sense.
There is no question that Cardoen had dealt with Iraq for many years. As far back as 1987, The New York Times reported that he had made a fortune by selling cluster bombs to Iraq during its eight-year war with Iran. The U.S. has been investigating him in connection with the illegal export of zirconium for such bombs. With the war winding down in the late 1980s, Cardoen began searching for a new product. What he discovered was helicopters. Congressional papers detail how Cardoen tried to manufacture a cheap attack helicopter from a customized Bell Jet Ranger, one of the world's most readily available commercial helicopters. By March 1990, he was ready to offer it at international arms bazaars; Moyle may have seen his mock-up displayed on the Cardoen stand at the Santiago air fair - a display that created a buzz of interest among potential third-world clients. According to defense industry sources, Saddam Hussein ordered more than fifty.
At the time, few Americans had heard of Saddam. Iraq's invasion of Kuwait, which propelled his name to the front pages, was still four months away. The Iran-Iraq war had ended only two years before, leaving Iraq's military in tatters. But Saddam was rebuilding quickly, supported by billions of dollars the United States and its allies had secretly sent to Baghdad (see "Iraqgate: The Big One That (Almost) Got Away," CJR, March/April). Some of the goods for this buildup had passed through Cardoen's hands in Santiago - a fact that, at the time of Moyle's visit, had yet to be discovered. It was not until November 1992, when three executives of machine-tool manufacturer Matrix Churchill were charged by British authorities with illegally passing militarily useful goods to Iraq, that evidence emerged showing that Britain had passed high-tech products to Iraq via Cardoen.
The fact that Jonathan Moyle's name appeared on certain Matrix Churchill court documents led his father to conclude that the British government knew more about his son's death than it would admit. Politicians from the opposition parties have even accused the government of a cover-up. Though the British foreign secretary, Douglas Hurd, raised Moyle's murder in a January meeting with his Chilean opposite number, neither government seems particularly eager to push the case vigorously.
Indeed, the only official investigation into Moyle's death still underway is in Chile, but the presiding judge has 2,000 other cases on his docket. Jorge Trevino, the Moyle family lawyer, is pushing for the appointment of a special investigator who could devote himself exclusively to this case.

[Magda Hassan]

THE CHILEAN CONNECTION
Carlos Cardoen -- arms dealer to Iraq, former friend of the U.S. government, and now fugitive - still lines his pockets with profits from our appetite for wine

Justin Hibbard
Sunday, March 2, 2003
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cg...M89478.DTL


In a remote province of Chile where air force planes used to bring prisoners to a concentration camp, a hidden winery equipped with a landing strip naturally raises suspicion. But on close inspection, Vina Tarapaca is no disguised death-squad hideout. Tucked within a horseshoe-shaped mountain range in the Maipo Valley, it sprawls across 1,052 acres. Rows of grape-laden vines surge to the foot of a stately century-old manor house, and the cellars are furnished with the latest fermentation equipment. That is to be expected, given that until recently Vina Tarapaca made and sold wine in partnership with one of Napa Valley's largest wineries, Beringer Blass Wine Estates.
On days when the board of directors meets, a helicopter lands near the manor, and a 60-year-old man in a crisp business suit steps out. At 5 feet 9 inches, he has to bend only slightly to avoid the whirring blades, which tousle his neatly combed black and silver hair. He strolls toward the house like someone who owns the place, which, in part, he does. He is Carlos Cardoen,
millionaire entrepreneur-turned-capitalist, Chilean folk hero and wanted fugitive in the United States. His alleged crime: exporting materials from the United States to build bombs for Saddam Hussein.
Just how a Chilean arms dealer got snarled in the U.S.-Iraq conflict - and wound up on the board of a winery with ties to Northern California - is a tale of betrayal and hard-fought redemption. Throughout a bitter 10-year battle with the U.S. government, Cardoen has maintained that American officials knew about and supported his weapons sales to Iraq during its eight-year war with Iran in the 1980s. Only after Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1990 did the United States press charges against him. "They came after me, looking for someone to blame," he says. In 1993, U.S. prosecutors charged him with violating export laws and laundering money from Iraq through an American real estate business.
Cardoen has never stood trial and cannot enter the United States without risking arrest. Since the early '90s, he has struggled to transform himself into a philanthropist and financier of peaceful Chilean industries, especially wine and tourism. The success of his wine ventures owes much to foreign exports, many of them to the United States. In addition to Beringer - which ended a six-year sales agreement with Vina Tarapaca in January, due to an existing import agreement Beringer's new parent company, Foster's, had with another Chilean winery - Cardoen's wineries have sold to Freixenent USA in Sonoma, Galena Cellars in Galena, Ill., and most recently, Paterno Wines International in Chicago. All of the sales are legal, though few American wine consumers realize whose net worth the proceeds ultimately benefit.
To understand the links between wine and Cardoen, it helps to start at the point of sale. During last year's Christmas season, a customer could walk into Haight Fillmore Whole Foods in San Francisco and buy a bottle of Vina Tarapaca's red table wine for $8. The market had ordered that wine from a U.S. distributor, which had bought it from Beringer, which had imported it from Vina Tarapaca, one of several businesses owned by Compania Chilena de Fosforos S.A. (Fosforos for short), a publicly held company of which Cardoen is the chairman and largest shareholder. When Vina Tarapaca's sales increase, so do Fosforos' earnings. Rising earnings usually make stock prices go up. Every dollar added to Fosforos' stock price is a dollar added to Cardoen's net worth.
In the past decade, Cardoen the legend has overshadowed Cardoen the man. But Cardoen the man is no cartoon villain. Though the evidence that he broke export laws is convincing, so is the evidence that he did so while acting as a middleman for the United States. "If I made a mistake, the U.S. government made a bigger mistake," he says. For his alleged crimes, he has never been sentenced, but he has paid with humiliation and lost economic opportunity. Even now, when Napa Valley's recession-battered wine industry might benefit from increased cooperation with Chile, he cannot set foot in an American boardroom. As the Bush administration prepares for a final showdown with Iraq, his story is a reminder of how many lives the 12-year conflict has damaged - and how many questions remain unanswered about the United States' role in arming the regime it now seeks to change.
In the beginning it was business
In 1995, a Beringer executive named Maryanne Bautovich struck up a conversation with an airplane pilot sitting beside her on a return flight from Chile. Bautovich was looking for Chilean wines for Beringer to distribute, and the pilot told her about an excellent but little-known winery in the north called Vina Tarapaca. When Bautovich returned to California, she made inquiries. On April 15, 1996, Beringer and Vina Tarapaca signed an import agreement. By December 1996, Vina Tarapaca had shipped 48,000 cases of wine to its new U.S. partner.
From the start, executives at Vina Tarapaca made no secret of Cardoen. "Of course, we mentioned it to [former Beringer CEO] Walt Klenz," says Claudio Cilvetti, Vina Tarapaca's export manager. "Beringer has always been aware of the situation, because there's nothing to hide, and we don't want them to misunderstand anything." Throughout their 6-year partnership, Beringer dealt mostly with Cilvetti and Vina Tarapaca's general manager, Rene Araneda. "I don't think anyone from Beringer ever had any dealings with Cardoen at all," says Mora Cronin, a Beringer spokeswoman.
Vina Tarapaca's parent company, Fosforos, is headquartered in Santiago and occupies two floors of a building that bears an eerie resemblance to one of the fallen World Trade Center towers. Cardoen and two partners control 52 percent of the company.
"Fosforos" is Spanish for matches, which the company manufactures and sells in addition to making wine. With lighters eating into match sales, Fosforos has been expanding into wine for 11 years to keep its earnings healthy. Wine exports are the fastest growing segment of its business. From 1996 to 2001, annual income from Vina Tarapaca's exports quadrupled from $4.5 million to $18 million. The United States accounts for 15 percent of those sales - more than any other country.
Cardoen's outlaw status in America seems to have caused no trouble for Vina Tarapaca's export business. State and federal regulators care only that the label matches what's inside the bottle and that the importer is properly licensed, which Beringer always has been. "Where the U.S. regulators draw the line is at the product itself," says John Hinman, an attorney specializing in wine law at Hinman & Carmichael in San Francisco. "They're not going to question where the revenues from sales of that product are going back to."
That said, federal authorities aren't wild about a suspect they've been chasing for 10 years making hay from American consumers. "Certainly, we would not encourage U.S. companies to conduct business with a fugitive who's wanted on charges of selling millions of dollars of cluster bombs to Saddam Hussein," says Dean Boyd, a spokesman for the U.S. Customs Service. "Consumers in the United States who buy wines from this individual have to wonder whether their dollars are going to fund Third World arms races, if not Saddam Hussein himself. It may be a stretch, but it's also a possibility."
Mostly, it's a stretch. For one thing, the dollars don't go straight into Cardoen's pocket, though rising sales of Vina Tarapaca wine ultimately increase the value of his Fosforos stock. In addition, Cardoen sold or shut down most of his arms-making businesses in the '90s. In 1992, his company that used to make weapons for Iraq, Industrias Cardoen, changed its name to Metalnor as part of an image makeover and shifted its focus to nonmilitary engineering. Today, Cardoen describes it as a "sleeping company." "It practically doesn't exist anymore," he says. But it maintains a functional weapons plant in Iquique, Chile, in case of emergency. "We would be very glad to produce if my country ever needs it," he says.
In March 2000, Chile's National Television station gave prime-time coverage to news that the Chilean government had granted Metalnor a license to sell 66 bomb pumps to Zimbabwe. Human rights activists complained that the pumps were ultimately destined for the Democratic Republic of Congo and its military dictator, Laurent Kabila.
"Although Carlos Cardoen always tried to maintain his warlike business in the back room, insisting it was extinguished, the controversial sale of pumps to Zimbabwe gave evidence that he never left the sale of arms," wrote the Chilean magazine Que Pasa. Cardoen downplayed it all, saying the pumps were for minor conventional weapons. In the end, the deal with Zimbabwe fell through.
Cardoen has kept a hand in the weapons trade if for no other reason than to maintain his legacy as the grandfather of Chilean defense. Last year, he was spotted making the rounds in a smart suit and tie at FIDAE 2002, a sprawling aircraft exposition that draws thousands of military types to Santiago every other year. Pride runs deep among senior members of Chile's defense community, who credit themselves with having helped save the country in the 1970s.





Chileans often joke that their defense industry was founded by Sen. Edward Kennedy of Massachusetts. In 1976, Kennedy succeeded in passing a law that banned the U.S. from selling weapons to human rights violators, including Chile, which in 1973 was taken over in a bloody military coup by General Augusto Pinochet. Without access to the world's largest arms supermarket, Chile was vulnerable in the '70s to attacks from two unfriendly neighbors, Argentina and Peru. Therefore, the Chilean army went looking for domestic suppliers, including Cardoen, who at the time was running a small mining- explosives company in Iquique.
Cardoen was no diplomat's son. His father was a prune farmer who invented agricultural machinery and wrote a book of poetry. Young Carlos grew up in the Colchagua Valley, where Chilean cowboys, called huasos, originated. After attending public school and state college, he won a scholarship to the University of Utah in Salt Lake City, where he earned his doctorate in engineering. Afterward, he returned to Chile to make mining explosives. When the Chilean army asked him to build bombs instead, he obliged, considering it his duty. If it wound up making him very wealthy, so much the better.
By 1980, Cardoen's company, Industrias Cardoen, was one of the largest Chilean defense companies, mostly due to Chilean military contracts. Some Chileans revered Cardoen as a patriot for having strengthened the country's defense and for having broken its dependency on foreign arms producers like the United States. In the early '80s, Industrias Cardoen was eyeing international expansion, and the Iran-Iraq war offered opportunity. The Pinochet regime allowed Chilean arms makers to export to most countries that were not neighbors and not communist. Iraq was neither, and Iran's mullahs rubbed Pinochet's generals the wrong way. Thus it was open season for Chilean companies that wanted to sell arms to Iraq.
By 1984, Industrias Cardoen had developed a cheap yet devastating weapon that would become its all-time best-seller. The Cardoen cluster bomb weighed 500 pounds and was shaped like a long canister. After dropping from a plane, it opened, clamshell-like, in midair and scattered 240 soda-can-sized bomblets over an area the size of several football fields, pulverizing anything within the zone. It was ideal for countering Iran's famous "human wave" attacks, in which they would try to overwhelm the Iraqis by sending in waves upon waves of soldiers. From 1984 to 1988, Industrias Cardoen sold more than $200 million dollars' worth of the weapons to Iraq.
Daniel Prieto, a former marketing executive at Industrias Cardoen, remembers traveling to Washington, D.C., with Cardoen several times in the '80s to attend the annual Association of the United States Army trade show, a glitzy defense-industry confab where generals and defense executives backslap each other over scotch and cigars. Amid hundreds of noisy exhibitors inside the 17-acre Washington Convention Center, the Industrias Cardoen booth stood out because of all the U.S. military officers and diplomats it attracted. "We talked to senior people in the State Department and Department of Defense," Prieto says. When the topic of Cardoen's sales to Iraq came up, none of the Americans objected. "On the contrary," Prieto says, "they were very supportive. "
Like Chile, the United States had no love for Iran in the '80s. Many Americans were still angry over Iranians having taken Americans hostage in Tehran at the American Embassy in 1979. Though the U.S. was officially neutral in the Iran-Iraq war, Washington clearly had a favorite. "Because of the war, every day that passed, the Americans were closer to Saddam Hussein," Prieto says.
A few months after Iraq invaded Iran in 1982, the United States removed Iraq from its list of states that sponsor terrorism, clearing the way for an embarrassment of U.S. goods to flow into Saddam's country. "It was motivated by a desire to build Saddam up as a bulwark against the Iranians," says Gary Mulhollin, director of the Wisconsin Project on Nuclear Arms Control, a nonprofit advocacy group in Washington, D.C. From 1985 to 1990, the U.S. Commerce Department approved $1.5 billion worth of equipment and technology for export to Iraq. Among the wares was $140,000 worth of radar components from Hewlett Packard.
In 1985, Marshall Wiley, former U.S. ambassador to Oman, formed the United States-Iraq Business Forum, a nonprofit group devoted to cracking open the Iraqi market for U.S. businesses. With a board made up of executives from corporations such as Amoco, Mobil and Westinghouse, the forum lobbied the federal government and the Pentagon to ease restrictions on exports to Iraq.
The United States wasn't the only country grabbing for the Iraqi market. France, Germany and the United Kingdom., too, were selling Iraqis everything from nuclear reactors to missiles. Naturally, Cardoen wanted to protect his share, and as the decade progressed, he grew ever cozier with Hussein, whom he once, according to an article in the British newspaper the Guardian, referred to as his "cousin." So close was their relationship, in fact, that the Iraqis permitted Industrias Cardoen to open a plant in Baghdad to make weapons parts.
Court records show that the money Iraq was paying Cardoen for cluster bombs was passing through Geneva, Switzerland, and ending up in several accounts in Miami, Fla. There, a Cardoen-owned company called Swissco would invest the money in Florida real estate. At the time, Cardoen and his Swissco associates were friendly with at least one prominent southern Floridian. In August 1986, Cardoen helped organize a fund-raiser for U.S. Sen. Robert Graham, a Democrat from Florida, at the Miami home of Swissco executive Anthony Mijares. The event raised about $50,000 for Graham's 1986 campaign and got Cardoen added to the Friends of Bob Graham, a group of top supporters.
Part of Iraq's payments to Swissco came through sales of oil. As Forbes magazine first reported in 1995, Cardoen's main arms-for-oil broker in the late '80s was an American named David Chalmers Jr., who came from a family of wealthy New York oilmen. John Pastis, a former trader for Attock Oil, remembers encountering Cardoen during a meeting with Chalmers at an OPEC summit in Vienna in November 1988. Pastis and Chalmers were negotiating a sale in the bedroom of Chalmers' plush hotel suite when Cardoen walked in, looking agitated. Chalmers asked Pastis to step into the living room, and from behind a closed door, Pastis overheard a heated discussion in which Chalmers tried to explain why he hadn't yet sold an allotment of Iraqi crude to pay for Cardoen's bombs. "Carlos was very angry because he was expecting his money," Pastis says. "He had already started building the bombs."
The game Cardoen was playing grew more dangerous as his business with Iraq increased. In early 1990, Industrias Cardoen was on the verge of closing a deal to supply Iraq with kits for converting American-made Bell helicopters into gunships. Jonathan Moyle, a 28-year-old British journalist at Defence Helicopter World, got wind of the deal and flew to Chile to investigate. His visit is recounted in Wensley Clarkson's excellent book "The Valkyrie Operation" (Blake, 1998). On the afternoon of March 1, 1990, a maid entered Moyle's hotel room in Santiago and noticed the closet door was slightly ajar. Inside, she found Moyle's naked body hanging from a shirt tied round his neck, his head covered in a pillowcase and his underpants dangling round his ankles. Chilean police initially said Moyle had killed himself in a sexual ritual, but an autopsy later found a needle hole on his shin and enough tranquilizers in his stomach to knock him unconscious.
In his book, Clarkson writes that Cardoen's former public-relations chief, Raul Montecinos, confessed on his deathbed in 1995 to having ordered Moyle's murder. Moyle, who also allegedly was an informant for the British Secret Service, was spooking the Iraqis with his questions about Cardoen's helicopter sales. Clarkson quotes Montecino saying, "I talked to the Iraqis. They told me who to get to do it, but said I had to organize it myself. I had no choice." Moyle's killers were never discovered.
In August 1990, Iraq invaded Kuwait, and Cardoen's world began to turn upside down. The United Nations immediately ordered a trade boycott against Iraq, triggering a tightening of American export policy that threatened to cut off Cardoen's supplies. When American and British planes began bombing Iraq in January 1991, Cardoen found himself on the wrong side of the conflict. His weapons plants in Iraq were among the targets, and his cluster bombs were used by the Iraqis against the NATO coalition. Arms-proliferation experts began to ask how Iraq had ever obtained such lethal weapons.
Cardoen had already begun to diversify his holdings by investing in nonmilitary businesses. In 1990, before the invasion of Kuwait, he and a group of Chilean investors had acquired Fosforos from the Swedish Match Company. But after the Gulf War ended in February 1991, even his new business interests could not deflect the mounting questions about his arms sales to Iraq. By the summer of 1991, the U.S., U.K. and German governments had begun investigating whether companies in their respective countries had used illegally obtained export licenses to ship weapons-related goods to Iraq before the war. "It was come-to-Jesus time for the United States in terms of disclosures," says Scott Jones, a research associate at the University of Georgia's Center for International Trade and Security. One investigation led by the U.S. Department of Commerce and the U.S. Customs Service was focusing on Cardoen's network.
In the summer of 1990, Commerce Department agents in Dallas had received a tip that a modified Bell 206 Long Ranger helicopter was about to be exported from Texas to Industrias Cardoen in Chile. Industrias Cardoen's history with Saddam was widely known, and the U.N. trade embargo against Iraq had just gone into effect. The agents discovered that the helicopter belonged to Cardoen's Miami company, Swissco. Export records showed that in the past five years, Swissco and a company in Albany, Ore., called Teledyne had shipped more than 130 tons of zirconium to Industrias Cardoen in Chile.
Zirconium, a silvery-white metal, usually sets off alarms with customs inspectors because it is commonly used in nuclear reactors. Industrias Cardoen had discovered that it made an excellent incendiary additive in cluster bombs. But the export license applications that Swissco and Teledyne had submitted to the Commerce Department said that Industrias Cardoen would use the material for "mining operations."
On March 27, 1991, customs agents seized Swissco's helicopter at the Dallas airport. While their investigation continued, separate allegations surfaced regarding Cardoen's connections to Robert Gates, whom President George H.W. Bush had nominated for CIA director. In July 1991, a former CIA operative told ABC's "Nightline" that in 1986 Gates, who was then a CIA deputy director, had met with Cardoen in Florida. A "Nightline" source said Gates had personally supervised a shipment of materials from the United States to Industrias Cardoen in Chile to make cluster bombs for Iraq. The White House promptly denied the report, as did Gates two months later during his confirmation hearings.
On April 6, 1992, the Commerce Department and Customs Service held a press conference in Miami to announce it had filed a civil lawsuit in federal district court against Swissco. Customs Commissioner Carol Hallett read from a statement worthy of Fox TV's "America's Most Wanted": "Like a black widow spider, Cardoen controlled a tangled but intricate web that circled the globe. His dark empire was spun from the profits of destruction. I am thankful that today we have finally dropped the bomb on him." Hallett explained how Cardoen had set up a "sophisticated organization" of shell companies and trust accounts to conceal more than $200 million that Iraq had paid for cluster bombs that were made from illegally exported materials. Through its suit, the government aimed to seize $30 million worth of real estate Swissco had purchased with the proceeds.
From Santiago, Cardoen spoke out through the media, saying the U.S. government was waging "business terrorism" against him. The Bush administration had known all about his sales to Iraq before the Gulf War and was making him a scapegoat, he said. On May 26, 1993, Cardoen, Swissco, Teledyne and employees from both companies were indicted on criminal charges in federal district court in Miami for illegally exporting zirconium. The charges included violation of the Arms Export Control Act, which prohibited sales of arms to Chile under Pinochet, who ruled until 1990. Maximum penalties for the various charges ranged from five to 10 years in prison and fines as much as $1 million per offense.
A warrant was issued for Cardoen's arrest, but he was 4,120 miles south, in Chile. Because he had committed no crime there, chances that Chilean authorities would charge him with anything were slim. Even if they did, the United States had little hope of extraditing him. "We examined the prospects of doing that and found the extradition treaty we have with Chile doesn't cover export violations," says Frank Tamen, a prosecutor in the U.S. Attorney's office in Miami. "It was negotiated during Theodore Roosevelt's administration."
In Chile, Cardoen continued to speak publicly, saying that he had told the American government about his sales to Iraq and had received its blessing. "We gave him every opportunity to provide us with the name of the American official to whom he had provided that information and any evidence to show he had any approval to do what he was doing, and he failed to do so," Tamen says.
In January 1995, a former member of the National Security Council during the Reagan administration named Howard Teicher entered a sworn affidavit in U. S. v. Cardoen that threatened to upend the government's case. The document gave a detailed description of how President Reagan and former CIA director William Casey carried out a policy during the '80s to ensure that Iraq was equipped to win the war against Iran. "My NSC files will contain documents that show or tend to show the CIA's authorization, approval and assistance of Cardoen's manufacture and sale of cluster bombs and other munitions to Iraq," Teicher's affidavit said.
The prosecution investigated his claims. "We sent about four people out to look through the records of the NSC and found not one piece of paper for what he had said," Tamen says. "When confronted with the fact, Teicher signed an affidavit saying he was mistaken and retracted everything he had said." He did so under threat of a grand jury indictment for possibly violating his national security oath.



In January 1995, Teledyne pleaded guilty to illegal exports of zirconium and paid $13 million in fines. On Aug. 7, 1995, a federal district judge sentenced Edward Johnson, a 55-year-old Teledyne employee who had sold zirconium to Cardoen, to three years and five months in prison and fined him $25,000. Described as a "small fish" by defense lawyers, he was the only person convicted in the case.
A key witness who helped win the conviction was Nasser Beydoun, a 52-year- old businessman who had been a close associate of Cardoen until the two men had a falling-out. During the trial, Beydoun had testified for the government about how he had helped Cardoen sell cluster bombs to the Iraqis. Later, in June 1995, Beydoun was found shot to death in his home in Rio de Janeiro. Police said three men in black ski masks had burst into Beydoun's apartment and herded Beydoun, a bodyguard and three women into a bathroom. After an hour,
the men had removed Beydoun to a bedroom and shot him once in the neck. The killers were never found.
By the time the U.S. government had won its conviction against Teledyne, Cardoen had already begun a new life in Chile as a purveyor of wine, tourism and culture. In 1992, Fosforos had acquired Vina Tarapaca and invested $50 million to upgrade its winemaking facilities. Two years later, shipments were growing at an average annual rate of 50 percent. In 1995, Cardoen's charitable foundation opened the Museum of Cochagua in Santa Cruz, Chile, to showcase the art and history of the Colchagua Valley region.
But the U.S. government didn't take its eye off Cardoen. In 1997, the Customs Service posted his photo on its Web site and offered a $500,000 reward for information about his whereabouts, mentioning that he frequently traveled outside Chile. If he were arrested in a country with which the United States has a favorable extradition treaty, federal agents might have a chance at capturing him.
The Chilean government has supported Cardoen's freedom in Chile while staying out of his conflict with the United States. In 2001, Chilean president Ricardo Lagos, whose election campaign Cardoen helped finance, confirmed publicly that Cardoen does not have any charges pending against him in Chile. He added that the United States had not sought Cardoen's extradition though legal mechanisms exist for it to do so.
The U.S. "persecution" of Cardoen, as he calls it, continues to this day. "Citibank receives instructions not to do business with me from the Department of State," Cardoen says. To Cardoen, such slights are part of a larger U.S. policy to prevent Chile from gaining political independence by developing its own defense industry. "When a small country finds independence on an important matter like the production of defense products, then the U.S. Department of State loses the ability to control the political will of that country," he says. And American defense companies gain competitors.
"That has been a charge leveled against the U.S. export policy for years, that its secondary interest is to promote U.S. business interests to freeze out competition," says Scott Jones, a research associate at the University of Georgia's Center for International Trade and Security. "That would be extremely difficult to validate."
For all his vitriol toward the U.S. government, Cardoen is optimistic about the wine industries in Chile and Napa Valley working together. "As soon as we have grown to a level where we can seriously combine our offers with the ones of Napa, there will be strategic partnerships that would certainly help each other," he says. Tourism is especially promising. In 2000, Cardoen opened the Hotel Santa Cruz to draw international visitors to Santa Cruz, Chile. His foundation has refurbished historic houses in the region. In September, he will launch a steam-train railway that runs through the Colchagua Valley, based on the Napa Valley Wine Train.
"Has Napa Valley been an inspiration?" he says. "By all means. I think you have done a great job there, and we would like to do something similar here." But to forge partnerships with businesses in Napa, Cardoen must be able to travel, a possibility for which he doesn't hold out much hope. "I have spent millions of dollars on very scrupulous lawyers who have taxi meters, and I think I've had enough of that," he says. "I don't see any interest from the Department of Justice. They just want to use the politics of the stick. When you have a chance at justice, I think it's worth looking for it. But when you don't, it's a waste of time."
Cardoen will turn 61 in May, and with each passing year, he likes to stay closer to his children and grandchildren. His adult children manage some of his businesses now, and eventually they will take over completely. Cardoen is content to run his museum. As far as he's concerned, the situation with the United States is behind him. "It's a big shame," he says. "A big, big shame."
Justin Hibbard is a senior writer at Red Herring magazine in San Francisco. He has written about business and technology for eight years.
This article appeared on page CM - 6 of the San Francisco Chronicle

[Magda Hassan]

Dead journalist sex smear 'foul'

Malcolm Coad and David Pallister, Guardian 2 June 1990, page 3 Malcolm Coad in Santiago and David Pallister
British officials in Chile are claiming that the dead defence journalist Jonathan Moyle was a sexual deviant who hanged himself while attempting to obtain pleasure. It is understood that members of MI5 have made the same assertion in London.
Last night Mr Moyle's father, Anthony Moyle, rejected the claim: "Nothing could be further from the truth. My son, my wife and myself were very close. This is just foul. What on earth possessed somebody to say this?"
No evidence has been provided to support the claims, which will smear Jonathan Moyle's reputation as investigators in Chile are casting doubt on the police assertion, immediately after his death, that he committed suicide.
Mr Moyle, aged 28 of Devon, was found hanged in the wardrobe of his room in the Carrera Hotel in Santiago on March 31.
He worked for the magazine Defense Helicopter World and was in Chile for the biennial Air and Space Fair put on by the Chilean Air Force.
He was interested in a Bell helicopter that the Chilean company Industrias Cardoen is converting to multi-purpose use, especially for Third World conditions and economies. He was then due to travel to Bolivia to write about military efforts there to combat drugs.
His interest in the helicopter - and suggestions that Iraq was trying to acquire it - plus the investigation into drugs have given rise to suggestions that he was the victim of skulduggery by international arms dealers or drug traffickers.
His family and friends in Britain were incredulous at the suicide explanation for his death. They pointed out that he had no history of depression and was about to get married.
According to colleagues, immediately before his death Mr Moyle was in excellent spirits, full of work projects and happy about his forthcoming marriage. It is understood that letters were found on him in which he wrote fondly of his honeymoon plans, trees he was planting in his garden, and a forthcoming visit to his prospective in-laws in Germany.
Mr Moyle believes his son's death was connected with his interest in the Cardoen helicopter.
"Before he died, he talked to Mr [Carlos] Cardoen himself," he said. "The judge [investigating the death] has detailed drawings of weapons which the Cardoen people were going to fit on to the helicopter and export to Iraq. My son would probably have printed that this would have made it potentially an attack helicopter."
However, the helicopter conversion has been well known for some time, and Mr Cardoen's dealings with the Iraqi regime are also well known. He said recently that Iraq would certainly be a potential customer.
http://www.cambridgeclarion.org/press_cu...n1990.html

[Magda Hassan]

David Leigh

Excavating for truth

A review of Investigative reporting: a study in technique, by David Spark (Focal Press paperback, £16.99).
British Journalism Review
Vol. 11, No. 1, 2000

This is an unassuming book, and once or twice, too unassuming for its own good. I was astonished to be told that a tabloid journalist “solved the murder” of magazine writer Jonathan Moyle, who turned up hanged in a Chilean hotel wardrobe. Moyle was assassinated to prevent him finding out about illegal arms deals, writes one Mr Wensley Clarkson in a sensational work put out by downmarket publisher John Blake. He quotes a confession supposedly made to a third party by an executive of a Chilean arms company (now dead). And so The Valkyrie Operation, as this author tells wannabe investigative reporters, “shows a journalist achieving what official agencies failed to achieve: the probable explanation of a murder” Well, excuse me. It shows no such thing. Nobody murdered Jonathan Moyle at all. As it happens, World in Action spent a lot of time and money researching this particular conspiracy theory during the 90s, at a time when I was there as a producer (before that distinguished investigative series was closed down by ITV in pursuit of something more lucrative to put on their screens).
WIA obtained Chilean police photographs of Moyle’s corpse and traced the Home Office pathologist who had examined the evidence for the British inquest. It rapidly transpired that Moyle had in fact been practising “auto-erotic asphyxiation— a sexual game with a high fatality rate. Murderers do not pad their nooses to make their victims more comfortable while they kill them. But Moyle had done so. Simple as that.
In the pages of David Spark’s book, the highly artificial “investigations” of the Roger Cook style of TV exposure also appear uncritically, although these programmes’ commercial appeal can depend less on the public interest than on the entertainment value of targeting populist hate figures — cowboy builders; Spanish fishermen; or small-time drug dealers. If a show of this type can’t end with a stagy confrontation between the heroic presenter and the villains, then it does not get made. Just as a News of the World investigation that does not end up visibly skewering some wretched cocaine-snorter simply doesn’t get written. Self-respecting investigative journalists ought to be encouraged to carry a moral compass as part of their equipment, along with their hatchet (for the hatchet jobs) and a box of matches (for inflammatory writing).
I don’t make these points in order to denigrate Spark’s work. These are only a couple of minor blemishes in a sensible and well-researched handbook which breaks new ground and pretty well covers the waterfront. He consults — and uses case-studies from — most of that cantankerous group who have practised investigative journalism in Britain in the last 30 years: Tom Bower, scourge of Maxwell; Bruce Page, who with Phil Knightley broke the Philby case; Ray Fitzwalter, whose tenure at World in Action saw the exposure of corrupt architect John Poulson and the exoneration of the imprisoned Birmingham Six; Mark Hollingsworth [books editor of the BJR] who wrote devastating biographies of Mark Thatcher and Tim Bell; Paul Lashmar, with his years spent exhuming the British Government’s secret propaganda operations; Paul Foot, hero of the Carl Bridgwater miscarriage and many other campaigns; and Paul Greengrass, who winkled the story of MI5’s post-war follies out of that addled old Spycatcher Peter Wright. Spark rightly notices Andrew Jennings too for his pursuit of Antonio de Samaranch, head of the tarnished international Olympics movement.
Spark ranges up and down the scale, including studies from regional and local paper investigators as well — he rightly grasps that investigative journalism is a state of mind, not a question of the size of the target. Indeed, for The Guardian’s Nick Davies, the author takes wing and abandons his usual quite pedestrian style to declare: “Davies… has done for the poor of 1990s Leeds what Guy de Maupassant, in his short stories, did for the middle class of 19th-century France.” (Is Nick Davies going to be pleased about this since De Maupassant was a writer of fiction).
The only substantial figure missing from Spark’s galère is perhaps Duncan Campbell, the electronics and intelligence specialist. His absence makes the chapter on intelligence agencies sketchier than it should be. In many ways Campbell’s has been a classically instructive — and bumpy — investigative career. He was involved in first exposing the very existence of GCHQ, an enormous British eavesdropping agency protected by the full panoply of Official Secrets legislation; and more recently, he revealed British plans to put up their own Zircon spy satellite. His work has been of genuine historical value. He is grouchy; driven; unusually technically literate; preoccupied by detail; confrontational, unafraid (he must be one of the most prosecuted, sued and injunction-bound journalists still working in Britain), and too awkward to fit easily into any institution.
There’s a quick and eclectic canter, in this book, around the topics that tend to interest UK investigative reporters — arms deals, killer doctors, police corruption, faulty washing-machines, political cover-ups. There is, too, a sound enough review of those three great enemies of democratic journalism — the British laws of libel, confidence, and official secrets. But none of it goes very deep. Much of the book is pitched at the level of handy hints: “Don’t be content with spokesmen's comments... Speak to as many relevant people as possible”. Perhaps this is better than a highfalutin’ approach. But I can’t help feeling that youngsters on journalism courses need something a touch more inspirational if they are to set out on a pilgrimage which will never make them much money or celebrity, but will subject them to all kinds of brickbats.
At ITV’s This Week (another investigative programme since closed down), I watched Julian Manyon’s documentary Death on the Rock crawled over by an inquiry brought about by pressure from a vengeful Thatcher government. They didn’t break Julian’s career because his work was impeccable. But what if the result had gone wrong? I shan’t easily forget the strain and misery that Peter Preston, when editor of The Guardian, went through as he pursued corrupt ministers like Neil Hamilton. (A baying mob of Tories who hauled Preston up before the privileges committee called him “the whore from hell”). And indeed, as Spark recounts, I was called plenty of names myself for making the film which provoked Jonathan Aitken to sue. I and my colleagues were, Aitken famously declaimed, “a small element which is spreading a cancer in society today... the cancer of bent and twisted journalism.”
It’s not a story we ever published, but I well remember what happened a couple of weeks into the subsequent big libel trial, after two years of prolonged and bitter legal warfare. The judge took away our right to a jury at Aitken’s request, and Aitken perjured his way smoothly through a week of cross-examination. Finally, Granada’s insurers, at a tense meeting in the chambers of our QC, George Carman, said they’d had enough. They wanted to surrender. Carman persuaded them to delay the decision for a day or two. In the small hours of that morning, my nerve went somewhat. I shook my wife awake and said, “Look, you’d better know. We’re going to lose. I’ll never work again. I’ll be the man who cost his employers million by defaming a cabinet minister. You’ll have to earn the family living from now on.”
Then gloriously, at the 11th hour, we were saved. It was entirely thanks to Owen Bowcott, a Guardian reporter who persuaded Swiss accountants (of all people!) to let him rummage through the basement files of a bankrupt Alpine hotel. There he found the crucial documents which saved the day, rescued us all, exposed the truth and ultimately put Aitken in jail. Sometimes, investigative journalism is actually about heroes.
http://www.bjr.org.uk/data/2000/no1_leigh

[Magda Hassan]

New light in mystery of hanged journalist

Ian Burrell

Thursday, 12 February 1998

THE DEATH of Jonathan Moyle is one of the enduring mysteries surrounding the murky world of Britain's arms dealings with Iraq.
Along with the scandal of Matrix Churchill, the West Midlands company which was allowed to supply machine tools for Iraqi weapons factories, the strange death of the 28-year-old defence journalist shone an unwanted spotlight on Britain's role in assembling Saddam Hussein's war machine.
When the body of the former RAF helicopter pilot was discovered hanging in a 5ft high wardrobe of a Santiago hotel room, the Chilean authorities were quick to deduce that he had committed suicide.
But members of his family was convinced that the explanation for his death was far more complex. They maintained that the editor of Defence Helicopter World was on the point of publishing an expose on an arms deal with Iraq involving British and Chilean companies.
Eight months after his death an inquest was opened in Mr Moyle's home town of Exeter, Devon. But the coroner was forced to adjourn the hearing after a pathologist said that vital body organs were missing.
Yesterday, the coroner's office confirmed that the inquest will resume later this month. The decision follows nearly eight years of investigation by Mr Moyle's father, Tony, a retired schoolteacher, who has long been convinced that his son was killed after being given a sedative in his coffee.
He is anxious not to pre-empt the findings of the inquest, but maintains that there is "no question" that his son was murdered. He wants the truth to come out, he said because "after all this time it would be nice to get everything completed."
Jonathan Moyle died in room 1406 of the Carrera Hotel on 31 March, 1990. His body was found hanging from a clothes rail, several inches lower than his body height. At first, the Foreign Office accepted the Chilean authorities' view that he had committed suicide.
But it later emerged that Mr Moyle had been working on a story that Carlos Cardoen, a wealthy Chilean arms dealer, had brokered a deal to supply Iraq with helicopters equipped with guided missiles. At the time Mr Cardoen was earning millions from Iraq's war with Iran and was also linked to the deals by which Matrix Churchill supplied lathes to manufacture Iraqi ammunitions.
Mr Moyle had arrived in Santiago as a delegate at an international defence conference. He began investigating claims that Mr Cardoen was preparing to convert the Bell 206 civilian helicopter into an attack aircraft carrying a guided missile system, which was jointly manufactured in Britain, Sweden and the US.
When news of his death was relayed to the Moyle family there was immediate disbelief. Mr Moyle senior has since spent pounds 10,000 investigating the circumstances surrounding his son's death.
His concerns helped prompt a re-think by the Chilean authorities and a judicial investigation in Santiago in September 1991 concluded that the young Briton had been murdered and that his killers had faked his suicide. Two years later, when an identity parade in Chile failed to identify a suspect, the murder hunt was halted. But the investigation into his death was re-opened by the Santiago Court of Appeal late last year.
Nearly eight years on and with Britain again on the verge of war with Iraq, the Moyles hope that the authorities will help them to establish the truth.
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/new-li...44240.html

[Magda Hassan]

JONATHAN MOYLE'S DEATH

Access this item:
Series Title: ITN Rushes
Year: 1991
Date: 12/04/1991
Time: 00:00:00
Duration: 70 mins 34 secs
Country: Chile
Collection: ITN Rushes
Description: JONATHAN MOYLE'S DEATH: A look into the death of the British journalist who died in Chile after interviewing an arms dealer.
Subjects: media, Unclassified crime, law and justice
Reporter:
Segment 1: Santiago CHILE ITN EXT 02.40 TGV Sylvia Cabiera, chambermaid at the Hotel Carrera, along road to doorway where she stops and chats with Ian Williams (blue cast on the above shots): British Embassy 03.56 CS plaque `British Embassy'; crest above doorway (seen thru gates) PULL OUT: crest above gate PULL OUT: 05.44 GV's EXT Hotel Carrera; doorman opens door: 07.12 Sign `Servicio Medico Legal De Chile'; GV's ext doorway, woman climbing stairs and thru door: 08.21 GV's EXT building `Instituto Medico Legal': INT 09.35 GV's people working in office; TRACK along corridors of courthouse; papers on desk in courtroom; woman putting files in drawers; LA lots of files on desks; dusty clock on wall; ledger leafed thru:
Segment 2: Santiago CHILE ITN 13.33 Set up shots Judge Alejandro Solis Munoz, (Investigating Judge); intvw Munoz (Spanish sp):
Segment 3: Santiago CHILE ITN LA Judge along corridor and sits at desk where he leafs thru files; CU Scales of Justice and Munoz behind: TRACK along corridor to doorway marked `Privado'; BV Jorge Trivino Figueroa, Lawyer, into office: Set up shots and intvw Figueroa (Spanish sp):
Segment 4: Santiago CHILE ITN EXT `Bridaga De Homicidios'; CU plaque on wall PULL OUT to GV doorway; Set up shots and intvw Jose Miguel Carrrera, Homicide Brigade (Spanish sp);
Segment 5: Santiago CHILE ITN GV's EXT Cardoen Industries HQ; car thru entrance gates and along driveway; CU GV's EXT Carabineros De Chile (branch of Chilean Police); security guard at doorway; Santiago El Basque CHILE GV young pilot walks across airfield and gets into cockpit of training plane PULL OUT: plane taxies along runway; planes on tarmac; cadets in hangar; GV hangar PAN across airfield; LA Chilean flag flying PULL OUT: CU air force flag fluttering; sign at entrance gate `Escuela De Aviacion Capitan Avalos' PAN; gates opened to let minibus thru; INT BV Ian Williams knocking on door, door opened by Pathologist; intvw Pathologist - knows nothing; shows Williams page in book ZOOM IN to highlighted paragraph;
Segment 6: Santiago CHILE ITN Pathology labs ZOOM IN to slabs and staff working; GV empty seats in lecture theatre as dissection table prepared; BV as Williams follows Chief Pathologist upstairs; Female technician viewing slides in microscope ZOOM IN: EXT: Plaque on door `Laboratorio de Toxicologia'; INT: technician working; CMS liquid dripping into flasks; blood sample being tested; TRACK along corridor leading to Room `1406' (where Moyle died) thru door and into hotel room; CMS phone ringing on bedside table: MS bed PAN to closet (where body found) ZOOM IN: porter ties piece of cloth to bar of closet (simulating suicide attempt) and pulls hard TILT DOWN to porter's feet (illustrating how difficult suicide would be in such conditions);
Colours: Colour
Publisher: ITN
Barcode: 06B0112135
Credits: ITN
Type: Rushes
Persistent URL: http://service.nfo.ac.uk/purl/article/00...000-0000-0
Content and catalogue information prepared by the British Universities Film & Video Council © BUFVC 2007
http://www.nfo.ac.uk/collections/records...000-0.html

[Magda Hassan]

MOYLE JONATHAN

Britain 1990 Chile 1990

• Bainerman,J. The Crimes of a President. 1992 (162)
  
• Covert Action Information Bulletin 1992-#39 (54)
  
• Intelligence (Paris) 1998-03-09 (34)
  
• Intelligence (Paris) 1998-06-08 (1)
  
• Intelligence (Paris) 1999-03-08 (22)
  
• Intelligence Newsletter (Paris) 1991-09-25 (4)
  
• Intelligence Newsletter (Paris) 1992-12-17 (6)
  
• Lobster Magazine (Britain) 1998-#35 (29)
  
• Lobster Magazine (Britain) 1999-#36 (41)
  
• Lobster Magazine (Britain) 2001-#41 (30)
  
• Schmidt,O. The Intelligence Files. 2005 (175-80)
  
• Stich,R. Defrauding America. 1994 (447)
  
• Thomas,G. Dillon,M. Robert Maxwell, Israel's Superspy. 2002 (354-5)
  
• Thomas,K. Keith,J. The Octopus. 1996 (54-5, 177)
  
• Thomas,K. Popular Alienation: A Steamshovel Press Reader. 1995 (226)
  
• Washington Post 1990-08-06 (D12)
  

pages cited this search: 24
Order hard copy of these pages

Social Diagram:
http://www.namebase.org/cgi-bin/nb06?_MOYLE_JONATHAN_

[Magda Hassan]

FOCUS ON CARDOEN
================

Focus on Cardoen:

The name of Carlos Cardoen, mentioned in the latest column by
Sherman Skolnick posted on CN, appears three times in the book
The Octopus: Secret Government and the Death of Danny Casolaro
by Kenn Thomas and Jim Keith:

The first is in an affidavit by arms dealer Richard Babayan:

"In an affidavit dated 22, 1991, Babayan swore:

I, RICHARD H. BABAYAN, being duly sworn, do hereby state as follows:

1. During the past several years, I have acted as a broker of
sales of materials and equipment used by foreign governments in
their armed forces, intelligence and security organizations.

[...]

9.In the capacity described in paragraph #1, I attended a meeting
in Santiago, Chile, in December, 1988, with Mr. Carlos Cardoen of
Cardoen Industries. During this meeting, I was informed by Mr.
Cardoen that Dr. Earl Brian of the United States and Mr. Robert
Gates, a senior American intelligence and national security
official, had just completed a meeting in Santiago, Chile, with
Mr. Carlos Cardoen."


Then, from a draft of Casolaro's Octopus manuscript:

I had also been placated, I presumed, with documents concerned
mostly with weapons, fuel air explosives, documents relating to
Gerald Bull, assassinated the previous spring in Brussels, Carlos
Cardoen in Chile, mining papers, lab papers relating to
scientific experiments with lasers, and letters regarding the
return of that mysterious billion dollars which Danger Man said
had come from the Nugan Hand bank in Australia. I had already
seen some of these documents in the months before but now it
looks as though the gumshoes from the House Judiciary Committee
would also see them...


and, from The Octopus by Kenn Thomas and Jim Keith:

More than a year earlier, on March 31, 1990, a British journalist
named Jonathan Moyle was found dead, hung in a hotel room closet
on Santiago, Chile. "Although Casolaro and Moyle were probing
different leads, their investigations involved some of the same
people," said columnist Jack Anderson. (7) Moyle, an editor at
London's Defense Helicopter World, had been investigating the
weapons trade, specifically the alleged sale of non-military US
helicopters to Iraq for re-fitting as attack choppers. The notes
Moyle left behind contained reference to a sophisticated missile
guidance system that held Iraqi interest, although whether or not
it used the system in its disastrous SCUD attacks during the
Persian Gulf War is unknown. Instrumental in the arms-dealing
Moyle had investigated was Carlos Cardoen, the same man Ari
Ben-Mensasche identified as the intermediary between Iraq and
Earl Brian for the PROMIS software deal. (8) Initial reports
called Moyle's death a suicide, but evidence, including the
presence of a strong sedative in his system and possible
asphyxiation, suggested otherwise. (9)

(8) Ben-Menashe, p. 239 passim.
(9) "The Riddle of Room 1406," Sunday Times.


The Octopus: Secret Government and the Death of Danny Casolaro
by Kenn Thomas and Jim Keith will be available this month from
Feral House, POB 3466, Portland, OR 97208. Kenn Thomas publishes
the `zine called Steamshovel Press, POB 23715, St. Louis, MO
63121; single issue: $6; subscriptions, 4 issues/$22. An
anthology of Steamshovel Press back issues, Popular Alienation,
is available from IllumiNet Press, 1-800-680-INET.

Kenn Thomas