They Seek Him Here They Seek Him There: Agent Cobalt

Tinker Tailor Senator Spy

In a turn of events straight out of a John le Carré novel, the Irish political establishment has recently found themselves embroiled in quite the Oireachtas kerfuffle over an alleged Russian spy slipping through the cracks of the Irish political system. They’re calling him "Agent Cobalt," well, the Sunday Times is, which sounds more like a hipster microbrew from Kilkenny than the moniker of a Manchurian candidate stalking the corridors of Leinster House on behalf of Mother Russia. The Government now finds itself caught amid a delicate spy game involving a Seanad colleague (yes, it is a Senator) and Russian interference in our democracy.

In conversations with people wiser than I, it’s been pointed out that Agent Cobalt's involvement with Russian spies might have more to do with his astounding lack of judgment, a lack of political awareness and possessing a stupidity so rare that the situation would be funny if it weren’t so dangerous. The word being thrown around in political and journalistic circles is “useful idiot”, which is probably a bit harsh on useful idiots.

This theory is given credence by John Mooney, who burst this balloon of secrecy, revealing our man Cobalt as a member of the Oireachtas. Whose identity remains cloaked in secret. You see, legalities here are in play, and the last thing we want is another mystery on our hands or me getting sued.

John wrote in the Sunday Times, “Initially, he was thought to be just another useful idiot. However, this assessment came into question after the garda special branch approached him with a formal warning that he was being targeted by Russian intelligence. He dismissed their concerns, prompting further investigations. By this stage, military intelligence were already aware of Cobalt’s willingness to assist Prokopiev (The Russian spy) with meeting loyalist paramilitaries.”

If the Gardai come to you and say, hey Senator, look, some Russian spooks are targeting you, and you dismiss the Gardai out of hand. For me, that indicates you’re thicker than the thickest plank in Leinster House. But there’s another issue at play here. If the Gardai and J2, the military intelligence branch of the Defence Forces, had evidence that a Senator, and not just any useful imbecile, was spying for Russia, then why wasn’t he arrested?

There are four psychological vices that might make you an ideal target for Russian Spies.

First up, we have money—because nothing says “trust me”, like a handful of Petro-Rubles converted to Euros. Economic desperation has a way of whispering sweet nothings in our ears. Getting a few bob for possible dire national consequences, no bother. But we’re told the Gardai checked his bank accounts and discovered nothing untoward there. He’s getting by grand on his meagre Seanad salary.

Next on the recruitment checklist? Ideology. Those who wave flags and shout slogans are prime targets for our Russian friends. Nothing makes a recruit feel more powerful than aligning with a cause. Allegedly, Cobalt offered to stir the pot by liaising with paramilitary groups in Northern Ireland, which is a curious approach for someone with no apparent ties or history with such nefarious organisations. This is the kind of diplomatic espionage where everyone brings a little agitation to the table. So again, the “useful idiot” theory has strong credibility here.

Let’s not overlook ego, that mischievous gremlin that keeps whispering, “Aren’t you special?” Everybody wants to feel like they’re part of something bigger—cue the “chosen one” complex. Russian spies know how to tickle that fancy. Picture it: a grand offer to be a key player in a political chess game too complex for your average social media philosopher.

Finally, we have coercion, the classic bad guy method. Imagine you’ve got a skeleton in your closet, sure, who doesn’t? Perhaps a few too many late-night escapades while the wife is at home and the tryst is caught on tape. Enter the spies with temptation and threats delivered in their best Russian accents. “You want your dirty laundry aired? We can help with that.”

John Mooney tells us it was exactly that: coercion or, given its technical spy term, kompromat. Which is a term derived from the Russian words for "compromising materials," it refers to sensitive or damaging information collected about an individual or organisation, typically used for political leverage or manipulation. The practice often involves gathering compromising evidence, such as photographs, videos, or documents that could discredit the target if disclosed. Kompromat is frequently associated with espionage and political tactics in Russia and other countries, where it’s used to intimidate or control public figures.

Another Sunday Times article alleges that a female agent was used to entangle the Senator romantically. I don’t know if this entanglement was taped, but I hope she introduced herself as Ms Broadchest (née Onatopp) from Ballina.

This entire debacle has sparked quite the chatter in the Oireachtas chambers. Politicians were on their feet, particularly in the Seanad chamber, denying they were Agent Cobalt quicker than you could say 007. It appears to be an open secret who Agent Cobalt is, much to the mirth of political insiders. But it raises some serious issues.

Irish domestic intelligence services ultimately report to the current Minister for Defence, Micheál Martin. So he knows who Cobalt is, and so does Simon Harris. But top-secret memos were issued to senior government officials, including Leo Varadkar when he was Taoiseach, at least five years ago, that a politician, codenamed Cobalt, had been recruited as an agent by ­Russian intelligence services. Images of Cobalt arriving on a flight into Dublin with Russian intelligence officers and holding meetings in hotels and restaurants with the Russian spooks were provided in these not-so-top-secret memos.

So why has nothing been done about Agent Cobalt? The barrister who reads my articles so I don’t inadvertently end up in the high court tells me that Senators have so little power and lack access to classified national security data, means the gardai have no legal power to prosecute the Senator. The translation here is that Senators are powerless, so they’re not a threat to national security.

We have something called the Treason Act from 1939, which could do with a bit of updating, says you, considering Russia has been engaging in hybrid warfare, which has included Ireland as a target. He can’t be prosecuted there, as the legislation is outdated.

We do have a code of conduct for our TDs and Senators. Stop laughing down the back.

Which states that under the code, you must ensure your conduct does not bring the integrity of your office or the Oireachtas into disrepute.

The code sets out how you must behave in office – in areas such as managing conflicts of interest, accepting gifts and benefits, adhering to the law, co-operating with legal bodies, the proper use of public resources, and the use of information. But that falls under the Standards In Public Office Commission. Who are ultimately powerless.

The legitimacy of a political system relies on public trust, which can be severely damaged by betrayal. When politicians choose to act in ways that discredit their office or undermine democratic processes, the political system must hold them accountable. While legal definitions of treason may not always apply, the public's call for accountability should resonate.

Arresting politicians for treasonous behaviour, even those without access to classified material, can set a precedent that emphasises the seriousness of our national security in today’s geopolitical landscape. It sends a strong message that all actions, even those by powerless Senators, should have consequences.