In Gamble,
U.S. Supports
Russian Germ Warfare
Scientists
By JUDITH MILLER
BOLENSK,
Russia -- At this
sprawling, rundown research
complex where Soviet scientists
once secretly worked to
turn
plague, tularemia, glanders
and
anthrax into weapons, the
Clinton
administration is taking
what
many consider a perilous
gamble.
The administration has been
financing research here
and at
other institutes throughout
the
former Soviet Union by scientists
who only a decade ago
manipulated genes to make
deadly
viruses and bacteria even
hardier
and resistant to vaccines
and
antibiotics.
Since 1994, the United States
government has spent $20
million
helping some 2,200 scientists
at
30 institutes in the former
Soviet
Union turn their deadly
skills to
public health and other
peaceful
research. Administration
officials
say this money -- which,
according to the General
Accounting Office may increase
to $270 million by 2005
-- is also
intended to prevent the
Soviet
scientists from selling
their
expertise to Iran, Iraq,
and other
"rogue" states or terrorist
groups
trying to acquire germ weapons.
Until recently, most of the
support
came from the Departments
of
State, Defense, and Energy.
But
prompted by the threats
of
bioterrorism and naturally
emerging diseases to American
health and the nation's
food
supply, the Departments
of
Agriculture, Health and
Human
Services, and others have
now
joined the campaign.
Among the most intriguing
newcomers is the Defense
Advanced Research Projects
Agency, or Darpa, the military
group that helped invent
the
Internet and which is known
for
supporting avant-garde research.
Darpa has cautiously and
quietly
allocated more than $3 million
since 1998 for work, including
some here at Obolensk, that
in
many ways resembles research
that was once the source
of
America's greatest fears.
The administration knows
that this
assistance could help Russia
continue developing germ
weapons, if, as some suspect,
research continues at its
four
still-closed military labs.
Can the
Russians, who doubled the
size of
their vast covert germ warfare
program after signing the
1972
treaty banning such weapons,
now
be trusted?
"No one really knows," Wendy
Orent, an expert on the
former
Soviet program, concluded
last
month in American Prospect,
a
liberal magazine.
But in a report to Congress
in
January, the Pentagon concluded
that the access gained to
Obolensk
through such assistance
gave it
"high confidence" that neither
Obolensk nor Vector, the
former
Soviet viral weapons complex
in
Siberia, was now engaged
in
activities related to germ
warfare.
In fact, the administration
maintains that the risk
of not
helping Russian scientists
far
outweighs the risk of doing
so. Darpa argues that
tapping the knowledge of
the Russian scientists, who
continued making ever deadlier
germ weapons two
decades after President
Richard M. Nixon ended
America's program in 1969,
will benefit science and
strengthen American national
security.
Still, the risks are obvious here at Obolensk.
In a way, the place is a
monument of sorts to
communism's failure. Many
of its 90 buildings are
half-built; several labs
appear abandoned. Weeds have
replaced the grass shown
in photos of the installation in
its prime.
Fifty miles southwest of
Moscow but unlisted on Soviet
maps, Obolensk until recently
was closed not only to
foreigners, but also to
Soviet scientists who were not
part of the germ warfare
program. Last month,
however, Gen. Nikolai N.
Urakov, the institute's
long-serving director, invited
an American reporter to
attend the first large open
scientific conference
Obolensk has ever sponsored.
The remnants of germ warfare
research are still eerily
evident: the heavy metal
locks on doors on the third and
fourth floors of Building
No. 1, which confined the
most deadly of Obolensk's
collection of 2,000 strains
of pathogens to air-tight
rooms; giant pipes that carried
breathable air to scientists
in contaminated areas,
emergency telephones, fire
extinguishers, alarms and
even the space suits on
display at the building's
entrance.
While such suits are still
worn on the third floor where
scientists still study the
most dangerous agents, Russia
says that these labs are
now dedicated to preventing
and curing disease.
American scientists with
proper vaccinations have
been permitted to visit
the "hot" labs in Building 1, the
nine-story, glass-and-metal
heart of this vast complex.
Aid from the United States,
much of it channeled
through a multinational
group known as the
International Science and
Technology Center, now pays
roughly half of the institute's
costs.
Obolensk now employs 1,125
scientists and
technicians, about half
its peak size.
With $3.45 million in grants
from the multinational
group, Obolensk has become
the second largest
recipient of American biological
aid after Vector. Andy
Weber, a special adviser
to the Pentagon's Office of
Threat Reduction, told conferees
last month that aid to
Obolensk rose sharply in
1997 after General Urakov
rejected Iranian overtures
to share his center's
biological expertise with
Tehran.
Still, few officials deny
the potential danger in
American financing of Obolensk's
most advanced work.
Consider Darpa's $175,000,
two-year grant to Igor V.
Abaev, a senior researcher
and weapons program
veteran. His goal is to
isolate and compare genomes of
Burkholderia, which causes
glanders, an inflammatory
disease that strikes horses,
mules and other animals and
sometimes people.
There is no human vaccine
to prevent glanders, and
once contracted, the disease
is not always curable.
Dr. Abaev combines single
strands of DNA from two
different types of Burkholderia.
The DNA parts that are
identical, or extremely
similar in both strands, then
form a double strand with
each other. The parts that do
not pair up, or pair up
poorly, are unique to those
species. This process, called
subtractive hybridization,
enables scientists to identify,
and later to clone the
fragments that differentiate
the two species. This, in
turn, produces diagnostic
markers that could lead to
vaccines designed to emphasize
those differences.
"As weapons, such organisms
represent a serious
potential biological threat,"
said Stephen S. Morse,
program manager in Darpa's
defense sciences office.
"But because these two species
primarily affected
horses, American scientists
stopped working on them
decades ago. As a result,
we now know all too little
about them."
Only a month ago, he noted,
a scientist at the Army's
research lab at Fort Detrick,
Md., who was trying to
develop a glanders vaccine
accidentally contracted the
disease.
Officials in Washington are
still trying to determine
what happened.
Dr. Abaev enthusiastically
displayed the new
equipment that the American
grant had enabled him to
buy, including a hybridization
chamber, which allows
him to mix the DNA fragments.
Though such machines
are standard in the United
States, they remain rare in
cash-strapped Russia.
Another joint project generating
excitement and concern
is a $500,000 grant from
the International Science and
Technology Center to a collaboration
that includes
Nikolai A. Staritsin, an
expert on anthrax, the former
Soviet Union's germ weapon
of choice, and American
researchers at the Northern
Arizona University in
Flagstaff, and at Los Alamos
National Laboratory.
The scientists are using
DNA fingerprinting, molecular
typing, plasmid profiling
and other modern techniques
of molecular epidemiology
to identify anthrax strains
by region and to help scientists
distinguish among
virulent and nonvirulent
strains. They hope to improve
their understanding of what
specifically causes anthrax
outbreaks.
Although the United States
and Russia have vaccines to
prevent the disease and
antibiotics that supposedly cure
it, Dr. Staritsin said much
remained unknown about the
DNA fragments already examined,
including the reason
some genes were latent and
others were not.
While both the United States
and Russia made weapons
from anthrax, Ken Alibek,
a senior scientist who
defected from the Soviet
secret program, argues that
Russian scientists have
produced anthrax strains that
are hardier and more virulent
than those from the
United States.
Scientists from the United
States first understood just
how advanced the Russians
were in the mid-1990's
when Dr. Staritsin and Andrei
Pomerantsev, another
Obolensk scientist, reported
that they had transferred
genes from Bacillus cereus,
a bacterium that normally
does not cause disease in
humans, into anthrax, which if
untreated, is highly lethal.
Hamsters that were given
this new agent did not
respond to Russia's own
vaccine against anthrax. This
news caused furious debate
among Western scientists,
who wondered why the Russians
were bothering to
create such a strain, and
deep anxiety over whether the
United States' own vaccine
would be able to block the
new Russian creation. Washington
has been eager to
obtain a sample of the strain
ever since.
Dr. Staritsin insisted in
an interview that he and his
colleagues had not tried
to develop a modified disease
impervious to anyone's vaccine
or antibiotics when
they performed the manipulation
in 1993.
They decided to transfer
the genes, he said, because the
two organisms were "closely
related and often found in
soil in close proximity."
They feared that one day the
two organisms might naturally
exchange genes without
any external intervention.
"We wanted to understand
what the result might be,"
he said.
In any event, he said, the
new strain was too unstable to
be useful in weapons.
Some will view this work
as evidence that Russian
scientists "were trying
to make an even nastier
weapon," one American said.
"Others will not. How do
you gauge intent?"
Whether Russia is honoring
President Boris N.
Yeltsin's 1992 pledge to
end the secret germ warfare
program may never be known.
But in Dr. Staritsin's
case, concerns are diminishing,
United States officials
say. Shortly before the
Obolensk conference, he and a
Russian colleague traveled
to the Centers for Disease
Control and Prevention in
Atlanta and to Fort Detrick to
give American scientists
samples of two rare Russian
strains from Obolensk's
collection of 3,000 anthrax
strains, believed to be
the world's largest.
Though the "Tzenkovsky" strains,
named for their late
19th-century Russian inventor,
are nonvirulent and
hence, usable only in vaccines,
the exchange
established the legal and
scientific precedents for future
trades of virulent strains,
like the genetically modified
strain that American scientists
have long coveted. The
exchange will probably occur
later this year or early
next, Russian and American
experts say.
"They didn't need us to do
their research," said an
American scientist as he
sipped one of the endless tiny
glasses of vodka that lined
a dinner's banquet table
during the conference.
"They were way ahead of us
in many areas despite their
obsolete equipment and bulldozer
investigative
techniques. So we have every
interest in helping them
overcome their past and
join the world's transparent
scientific community."
Copyright 2000 The New York Times Company