The British MP who faked his own death and fled to Melbourne
More than twenty years after his death, it was revealed that he had been an agent for the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic military intelligence. In 1979, the Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, and top cabinet members learned from a Czech defector that Stonehouse had been a paid Czechoslovak spy since 1962. He had provided secrets about government plans, as well as technical information about aircraft, and received about £5,000. He was already in prison for fraud and the government decided there was insufficient evidence to bring him to trial, so no announcement or prosecution was made
New Channel 4 documentary The Spy Who Died Twice is exploring the extraordinary true story of John Stonehouse, a Labour MP who faked his own death.
When he was discovered, the former minister attempted to continue as an MP, but eventually had to serve time in jail and resigned in disgrace.
However, Stonhouse also faced the allegation that he operated as a communist spy during the Cold War – here’s everything you need to know.
Agent Twister — John Stonehouse and Britain’s forgotten spy scandal
A new account brings to life the UK minister’s spying for a communist state in a case arguably more important than Profumo
John Stonehouse, left, who faked his own death, returns to Heathrow airport after being deported from Australia in 1975 © Getty Images
In the pantheon of modern British political scandals John Stonehouse is largely forgotten. He ranks well below the Profumo and the Thorpe affairs in public memory even though this was arguably far more important than either. Profumo was ultimately little more than a sex scandal decorated by high social connections and glamorous women. The downfall of the liberal leader, Jeremy Thorpe did at least have a hilariously botched attempted murder as well as the still taboo issue of gay relationships. The Stonehouse story has sex, betrayal, a hugely newsworthy faked disappearance, widespread criminal fraud and above all that, he is the only known case of a UK minister spying for a communist state — he was alleged to have begun working for Czechoslovakia in the late 1950s to early 1960s. Profumo had the fears of a security breach, Stonehouse was one. Yet for some reason while the other scandals have lingered in the public minds, his saga has faded from memory. But there is a bit of a Stonehouse revival under way. A TV drama is planned and now there is a new account of the saga, Agent Twister, which lovingly retells the story. There is a delightful, pre-internet feel as so many of his escapades rely on the absence of easy mass communications It was certainly a major story at the time, coming just a fortnight after the more shocking flight of the murderous Lord Lucan. Stonehouse, a former aviation and telecoms minister in Harold Wilson’s first Labour government, faked his own death in 1974, leaving his clothes in a Miami beach cabin while he fled to Australia under a false identity, hoping his family and friends would assume he had drowned. Stonehouse’s fall has perhaps faded because at root this was a pretty squalid scandal. His political career had tanked and Wilson excluded him from his front-bench team. The various businesses he started were failing and were propped up by fraud. He pillaged his bank accounts for his own comfort. Though an affair with his secretary titillated the tabloids, she was only one of a number of infidelities. His work as a Czech agent was motivated by money rather than ideological conviction.
Once captured Stonehouse sought to stay in Australia playing to the newspaper storyline of a midlife crisis. But the charade quickly dissolved. He was extradited and jailed. Even before the full scandal emerged some of those who knew him were suspicious. From the first reports of his disappearance, Wilson doubted he was dead. Aware of the spying rumours the prime minister perhaps thought he had fled for other reasons. Much of the joy of Agent Twister — the title was one of his Czech codenames — is the glimpse it affords into a different era, one where the Daily Express was an influential newspaper. Stonehouse holds off auditors with a mixture of bluster and the good chap approach to business that characterised the times. There is a delightful, pre-internet feel as so many of his escapades rely on the absence of easy mass communications.
Perhaps the most striking revelation is that three prime ministers, Wilson, James Callaghan and more surprisingly Margaret Thatcher, colluded to keep his spying secret. The first two for the damage it would do to their party. Thatcher initially went along with the cover-up when in opposition because she understood the claims to be unproven — a decision that she kept secret even after later citing the importance of transparency in the exposure of the spy Anthony Blunt. Stonehouse himself comes across a venal narcissist convinced of his own greatness, who seeks to flee when the realities of his inadequacies begin to crowd in.
And yet for all the detail there remains something elusive. The book ends rather abruptly and one is left with a sense of wanting more, of wanting to better understand this fantasist and serial betrayer. Perhaps this absence explains Stonehouse’s final disappearance — from public memory. The reader is left trying to understand the story of a man who dreamt he was destined for greatness but is no longer even remembered for the scandal which briefly defined him.
Agent Twister: The True Story Behind the Scandal that Gripped the Nationby Philip Augar and Keely Winstone, Simon and Schuster, £20, 416 pages
“What happened to John Stonehouse is the stuff of legend. I’ve always been intrigued by what motivated him to fake his own death and leave behind the family he loved and doted upon, and a promising political career. John Preston’s script truly captures the man and his colourful life and I’m looking forward to taking on his character.”The letter disgraced MP John Stonehouse wrote after being caught
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