Russian mole in Germany rattles political circles
WEILHEIM IN OBERBAYERN,
GERMANY » A few days before Christmas, a convoy of security vehicles invaded a quiet corner of Weilheim, a quaint Bavarian town of pastel squares and fastidiously kept cobblestone streets. Their target seemed as unassuming as the setting: a local children's soccer coach.
Nothing ever stood out about the man, fellow coaches recalled. He was not short, but not tall — friendly, yet never wanting to discuss anything but soccer. Grasping for words, most landed on the same choice: “unremarkable.”
That changed when they learned he had been arrested on charges of treason and spying for Russia in one of the gravest espionage scandals in recent German history.
The coach, a 52-yearold former German soldier, worked for Germany's Federal Intelligence Service, or BND, as a director of technical reconnaissance — the unit responsible for cybersecurity and surveilling electronic communications. It contributes about half of the spy agency's daily intelligence volume.
As a Russian mole, he would have had access to critical information gathered since Moscow invaded Ukraine last year. He may have obtained high-level surveillance, not only from German spies but also from Western partners like the CIA.
German intelligence has had a long and troubled history of Russian infiltration, stretching back decades. But the latest case now threatens to shake the sometimes tentative trust of Western intelligence agencies in Germany at a critical moment when Russia has presented Europe with its biggest security threat since World War II — and as Moscow is escalating its espionage efforts across the continent.
The arrest came shortly after a flurry of raids across Europe that uncovered socalled illegals, or secret Russian agents, in the Netherlands, Sweden and Norway.
German authorities are still trying to determine what damage their mole may have done. But the discovery of a double agent has rattled German political circles.
Some leaders are openly questioning the loyalties of their own security services and just how deep the problem of Russian sympathizers runs within their ranks.
German authorities — who in public hailed the arrest as a victory against Russia — have batted away journalists' inquiries. They have identified their chief suspect, the soccer coach, only as Carsten L., in keeping with strict privacy laws. British news outlets have identified him as Carsten Linke. A New York Times investigation confirmed his name, hometown and background.
Privately, three officials familiar with the investigation — who requested anonymity in order to share details because discussing the inquiry publicly is illegal — worry the case could be the tip of an ominous iceberg.
“Recruiting other spies is the top tier of espionage,” one of the officials said. “And our technical reconnaissance unit is one of the most important departments of the BND. To find someone relatively high up there? That makes this case explosive.”
The case has already led to a second arrest — that of a Russia-born accomplice, who acted as a courier and, according to one official, brought some 400,000 euros in cash to Linke from Moscow for his information.
It is still not clear who recruited whom, two people following the investigation said, but authorities believe the men were put in touch by a German military reservist who is a member of the far-right populist party, the Alternative for Germany, or AfD.
German intelligence was apparently tipped off to the mole by a fellow Western agency, those following the investigation said.
The case has also exposed other serious vulnerabilities for Germany, which former American intelligence officers said in recent years has been seen as not aggressive enough in its vigilance over Russian spying and its counterespionage efforts.
For years, as German politicians pushed economic ties with Moscow — in particular, buying its gas — they closed down many intelligence units focused on Russia.
Yet President Vladimir Putin of Russia, who started his career as a KGB agent in Communist East Germany, took the opposite tack: He made Germany, Europe's biggest economy, a priority target.
“They have highly specialized experts who speak fluent German, who know their way around very well and who launch very targeted operations in Germany,” said Nico Lange, a former German Defense Ministry official who is now a senior fellow at the Munich Security Conference. “On our side, you actually have almost no one left who knows Russia, speaks fluent Russian and watches the other side closely.”
Investigations so far suggest that Linke's connection to Moscow predated the invasion of Ukraine last February. The question plaguing German officials, should the accusations be confirmed, is what would drive an intelligence officer, a nationalist who spent years in the military serving his country, to then turn against it?
No clear financial incentives have been found, nor was Linke in debt.
The only hints of potential motives are his apparent far-right sympathies. A search of his home and offices, two people familiar with the investigation said, found flyers from the farright AfD party. At work, Linke had openly told colleagues he felt the country was deteriorating, and he was particularly disdainful of its new center-left government, one of those following the inquiry said.
Over the years, far-right groups have grown increasingly sympathetic to Russia, enamored of Putin's nationalistic rhetoric. Germany has struggled to root out far-right sympathizers in its security services, including in the military, even dismantling part of its special forces.
Shortly before Linke was discovered as a mole, he had been promoted to head personnel security checks. The damage he might have done there would have been far greater: He could have passed on tips about agents vulnerable to blackmail or bribes.
A month after Linke was taken into custody, an accomplice, Arthur Eller, 31, was detained by the FBI in Miami. After an interrogation, he was put on a plane to Munich, where he was arrested by German investigators.
A naturalized citizen, Eller was born in Russia and moved to Germany with his parents in the 1990s. He also served in the German armed forces.
Eller worked more recently as a businessperson with ties to companies in Germany and Africa, including a Nigerian-registered petroleum trading company he ran alongside a Swiss-based gold dealer and a Nigerian businessperson.
He and Linke are believed to have first met in 2021, three people familiar with the investigation said, at a yearly festival run by the Weilheim sports club where soccer coaches and their families snacked on coffee and cake or drank beers in the afternoon. The two were put in touch by one of Weilheim's local members of the far-right AfD party who once served in the military with Eller and remains a reservist.
Travel logs and flight records found by a Russian investigative group, the Dossier Center, show Eller took hundreds of flights to New York; Los Angeles; Dubai, United Arab Emirates; Baku, Azerbaijan; Belgrade, Serbia; Tbilisi, Georgia; Prague; Doha, Qatar; Shanghai; Geneva; and countless Russian cities.
Many trips to his native country were very short, but he usually stayed in the best hotels in Moscow and St. Petersburg, according to the Dossier Center. He also made trips to surprisingly obscure Russian locations, like Nizhnekamsk.