Secrets of the Secret Service

by Gary J. Byrne

  Though it was the initial investigation into bribery, sexual assaults, and subsequent obstruction that got Clinton into hot water, it was his continued dogged obstruction, lying under oath, and asking other federal employees to lie for him (one being a mistress he lied about being “alone in the same room with”) that led to impeachment proceedings and the unfortunate involvement of the Secret Service.

  Even before the investigation that led to his impeachment, the Clinton presidency would turn the Secret Service inside out in a number of ways. The Clintons’ media relations demands, as well as their demands for professional and personal conveniences, suddenly took priority over standard event and transportation security procedures. The executive branch was flooded with a cult of staffers who were less than trustworthy or even criminal. The Secret Service was forced to be more “user friendly” in every aspect of its mission by turning a blind eye to criminality and double standards in law enforcement. This eventually pitted it against the president and the Department of Justice. Meanwhile, the long-standing divide between the Uniformed Division and the Special Agent Division grew worse and untenable.

  The problems began even before President Clinton took office. As the Secret Service replaced the Arkansas State Police detail that had protected the Arkansas governor’s mansion, the Clintons anticipated that the Secret Service personnel would operate very much like their state troopers. The small, almost unnoticeable state trooper presence was a badge of honor for the affluent neighborhood in Little Rock. But serenity left when the Secret Service arrived.

  Newly installed floodlights flooded the governor’s mansion at night. Large black Secret Service cars came and went night and day, blocking the streets. Doors slammed. Hard-looking uniformed and nonuniformed men and women patrolled at all hours. The agents and officers posted on the street talked and laughed to stay awake and alert. The upscale neighbors were spooked by the agent’s scary looks and the officers uniformed presence.

  The Secret Service personnel were just as surprised. Many Clinton friends and acquaintances seemed accustomed to waltzing up to the governor’s mansion at all hours and expected hospitality at their own convenience, even when the candidate and his family were away. They were appalled to be questioned and by the fact that everyone, even staff, was required to pass through Uniformed Division magnetometers and have their bags searched, despite the countermeasures being the answer to the assassination attempt on President Reagan. The Secret Service had no exceptions. The arrogant staffers and self-styled VIPs complained to the Clintons, and the Secret Service soon found itself having to defend its policies at every turn.

  At first this was chalked up to the normal adjustment period. But the problems quickly followed the Clintons from the Arkansas governor’s mansion to the White House. In the past, presidents would learn to work with their protectors, even if it took a near miss to convince them. But the Clinton team was especially stubborn, and the Secret Service decided to be soft with no contingencies in case the protectee pushed things too far. Previous campaigns had, of course, made their candidates into celebrities. But Hollywood producers Linda Bloodworth-Thomason and her husband, Harry Thomason, and political strategists George Stephanopoulos, Rahm Emanuel, Paul Begala, and James Carville, along with Democratic Party National Committee leaders and Hillary Clinton, rewrote the script. In 1991, they created not just an effective candidate but a pop culture icon and highly marketable brand rivaling President John F. Kennedy’s but supercharged by 1990s communications. The Clinton brand was effectively deployed and depended on the idea that here was someone the public could really relate to, who played the saxophone, and who could, as he liked to point out enthusiastically, “Make America great again.” And many people believed him. That was because they liked him. He was cool.

  The Secret Service was used to doing things a certain way, because if done correctly, it worked. The agency believed its tried-and-tested strategy based on case studies and emerging intelligence would fit every protectee. It was a one-size-fits-all approach that needed little tailoring. Yet for the first time since President Jimmy Carter, here was a candidate and an operation that warranted much greater resources than candidates before him. The Clintons regularly coordinated massive events that rivaled celebrity music concerts. The Secret Service had failed to plan for this eventuality and repeatedly turned to Congress, President George H. W. Bush, and anyone else they could for supplements to its budget, but the demands on the agency only increased with the candidate’s rise in “political currency.” Because of its limited resources, instead of preempting issues before they occurred, the Secret Service had to rely on threats being immediate and urgent before it could even attempt serious change.

  One urgent problem emerged early in the 1992 campaign when a deputy sheriff entered a Clinton event with a concealed handgun. He was a Clinton supporter and posed no threat, but when he informed the detail that he had not been screened, the Secret Service gained the “political capital” it needed to act. Additional Uniformed Division teams were deployed with magnetometers to screen the increasingly massive crowds at Clinton events within hours. Despite the attempts on the lives of Presidents Ford and Reagan, the service had not yet applied those hard-learned lessons. Instead of diligent, advanced strategic planning, it was playing catch-up, and its overworked agents and officers answered each call for more: more work hours, more security details, more gear, and greater sacrifices from its employees. But the gaps in its strategy and the culture that was willing to overlook those gaps remained.

  As Clinton fandom ballooned, events were scheduled at an increasing pace, and the Secret Service had to manage its finite resources in an ever-changing campaign schedule. The campaign’s always low estimates of attendees were frequently wildly off. The Clinton campaign continually wanted to cram events to or beyond capacity, providing one estimate of participants to staffers and another to fire marshals and the Secret Service. Cable news stations, which were becoming the primary news medium for voters, would broadcast filled events to show how popular the Clintons were becoming. The Secret Service was regularly notified at the last minute of event requirements and changes. I was assigned to one such event where an entire magnetometer detail was deployed to Kansas City, Missouri, but the event had been canceled two months prior. The Clinton campaign had neglected to notify the Secret Service. The advance agents involved were nearly despondent to have put so much work into something, only to have it be a complete waste. Meanwhile, other events were hamstrung because Uniformed Division officers were spread so thin to cover the campaign.

  The Clinton campaign felt there was no point in security if it was going to compromise the goal of the event. The Secret Service, on the other hand, felt that there was no point in doing an event if the protectee was going to get killed. The staff considered the Secret Service to be a hindrance and burden as opposed to a partner in protection. They couldn’t understand simple security protocols, such as the fact that in winter, screening for concealed weapons takes much longer, as patrons are dressed in more layers. One event in Ohio was beyond capacity and the magnetometer detail was ordered to “shut it down”—and it wouldn’t be the last time.

  The campaign’s insistence on drawing capacity crowds created plenty of logistical headaches. The Secret Service, the local fire marshal, and the event and campaign planners are supposed to work together to plan for the Secret Service’s unique policy on exits. Two exit routes are always locked down exclusively for the protectee’s exit. For example, if a 10,000-person capacity room had ten emergency exits and the Secret Service appropriates two exits for its needs, the number of participants admitted to the room should be reduced accordingly. But the campaign staff never heeded this, as the goal was continually to broadcast Clinton’s popularity to the world. Fire marshals even tried to shut down some events. Though in theory they had the authority, with the candidate under Secret Service protection and the agency running the show, the fire marshals had no clear way of actually exerting that
authority; they were forced to hope that things would play out fine without a fire or stampede.

  As the campaign ended and Clinton became the forty-second president, the Secret Service anticipated a return to calm, as had occurred with past presidencies. But the Clinton campaigners had won the White House, and they were convinced that their successful campaigning strategies and tactics could be applied to governing.

  Sometime in 1992, as Clinton neared the presidency, FBI agents who were “in the know” met with their Secret Service counterparts for off-the-record discussions. The IRS, the FBI, and the Federal Election Commission (FEC) had investigated both associates of the Clintons and the Clintons themselves. The FBI alerted the Secret Service as a courtesy, warning it of the kind of people who were in the Clintons’ orbit. Some of those were clear-cut criminal connections, such as Jim McDougal, who both went to jail following investigations of money laundering and insider deals with Arkansas government officials. As the Clintons formed their presidential staff, they surrounded themselves with such people, creating a greater risk of subversives, moles, criminals, and even spies within the Clinton camp. The FBI and Secret Service faced a choice—and the start of a long succession of dilemmas.

  The FBI’s primary investigations, known as “Whitewater” and “cattlegate” (or the “cattle futures controversy”), explored whether the Clintons had accepted bribes through shell companies and from various shady corporate arrangements and favors to pay back their political debts and more. Though the media and TV viewers became bored with the continued obsession with Whitewater and cattlegate, FBI investigations operated on evidence, not entertainment value. The leaders of the Secret Service ignored much of this and failed to see the incoming avalanche.

  In January 1993, any hope of normalcy on the part of the new administration vanished. Immediately the former campaign staff began taking apart the security system for screening prospective employees. Instead of being required to pass investigations by the FBI followed by approval by the Secret Service, prospective hires simply began showing up at the White House northwest employee gate. They were then given visitors’ passes—which was unprecedented and virtually negated the security measures that were in place. Frontline Secret Service employees quickly got wind of the plan, and Secret Service leadership put an end to that specific practice. The practice was discovered only because of bizarre behavior by the new staff, including brazen vandalism of the White House. One potential employee even brought in a concealed firearm and handed it to a UD officer.

  The Clintons wanted to hire anyone they pleased without reporting to Congress or having to explain things such as prior drug use, arrests, medications, or anything else to anyone. They believed that as they had won the White House, they could staff it without hindrance from pesky security measures.

  The Secret Service gave in to the Clintons’ plans to give prospective employees “temporary passes,” much like the standard for a visitor’s pass, provided they made it through a provisional National Crime Information Center (NCIC) check. But many would-be hires were not cleared by the process, which was not as thorough as a full background check. The FBI was unable to build full reports to then hand to the Secret Service for decisions. Under pressure, the Secret Service issued the temporary passes while simultaneously issuing memos putting officers, agents, and technicians on alert.

  The president and first lady should have pressured new hires to cooperate fully with the FBI investigators. Instead they complained the process was politically corrupt and took too long, just more bureaucratic red tape. Those investigations had extremely high standards, as the presidential staff work in the highest office in one of the most secure intelligence locations on the planet. Yet the president and especially the first lady pressured the FBI and Secret Service to approve whomever they wanted.

  The staff even complained that the “T” for “temporary” on the badges was too prominent; apparently it hurt their feelings. But the whole point of the blue passes and the “T” was to signal to Secret Service personnel that such pass holders were temporary, were not trustworthy, and should be more heavily scrutinized for area denial and behavioral analysis. The compromise had a very negative effect on relationships among the various people doing their jobs in the White House. Secret Service personnel and presidential staff had more run-ins when officers had to question or hold up staffers. The most routine conflicts were with staffers who expected to be able to enter secured areas without their passes but who were stopped and issued visitor passes. Many key staff members from the campaign, who should have known better, were notorious for this. After the T-passes became so cumbersome and annoying to the staffers, who continually had to get them reissued, the Secret Service compromised again and stopped putting an expiration date on them.

  The process was constantly screwed up, and the FBI agents who were assigned to the White House and their Secret Service counterparts had to pick and choose their battles. Dee Dee Myers, as an example, had a very hard time securing a “hard” or permanent, pass. As White House press secretary for almost the first two years of the administration, Myers was certainly senior staff. However, the Secret Service was also aware of a police record uncovered during her background check, which made granting her a permanent pass unlikely.

  When White House staff without proper passes ran up against Secret Service personnel charged with keeping people out of secure areas and confrontations resulted, the Secret Service leadership had a choice to make. They could have held firm and stood by their own agents and officers who were trying to do their jobs, letting the staffers know that they wouldn’t be able to sneak into places without proper clearance. But that didn’t happen.

  Speaking of drugs—the Secret Service cross-trains its Belgian Malinois dogs to sniff out both bombs and narcotics. This was known to the Clinton staffers. Normally they were known for their open-door policies, and “straphangers” hung about, endlessly debating policy and filling the halls with youthful energy—until the dogs came through. And it wasn’t bombs the staffers were worried about hiding. The first time the K-9 units came through the east and west wings and other areas, many of the offices immediately became suspiciously light-staffed. One Clinton official had none of those concerns, however: Betty Currie, the president’s secretary, loved the dogs and kept treats for them. The officers knew that treats would signal a job well done, so they made sure to visit Betty last. She even asked the K-9s to swing by more often, which might not have been appreciated by some of her colleagues.

  Also causing tension was the firing of the FBI director of six years, the fourth ever director to lead the bureau, William S. Sessions. Attorney General Janet Reno, appointed by President Clinton, cited reasons why Sessions could not lead the bureau, including charges of ethical violations such as a government-funded fence built around his DC home and a personal trip taken at taxpayers’ expense. To Louis Freeh, Sessions’s appointed successor, the Clintons made it clear that they expected their hires to be approved without regard to protective measures. They expected a “user-friendly” FBI. They simply did not understand how the FBI is structured. The Bureau was not required to notify appointees of open investigations targeting the Clintons and their people—a measure that kept political intrusions out of law enforcement work.

  Congress even attempted to investigate the matter of staff approvals but was assuaged by George Stephanopoulos who testified before Congress and persuaded them not to. But by that point the standards had been diluted so much that they hardly mattered.

  The Clinton White House attorneys felt that prospective employees should be treated as hired until proven guilty. Much like the Clintons’ regard for the Secret Service’s protection of a candidate as solely that agency’s responsibility, the Clintons simply did not feel the need to have their prospective hires cooperate with investigations. The stalemate continued until the Clintons started escalating the situation.

  A former FBI agent, Gary Aldrich, made it very clear in Unlimited Access: An F
BI Agent Inside the Clinton White House that the friends of the Clintons were problematic, to say the least:

  One only had to look at Clinton associates like Little Rock businessman Dan Lasater, who was convicted of cocaine distribution (and later pardoned by then-Governor Clinton) and whose former business partner is current Clinton director of White House Management and Administration Patsy Thomasson (responsible for drug testing at the White House), or at the cocaine distribution convictions of Clinton’s half brother or of Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders’s son to get a hint of possible murky depths.

  While the Secret Service was struggling to protect the White House from its own would-be staffers, another official scandal arose in May. “Travelgate” or “the White House Travel Office controversy” is the name given by the media for a situation in which the Clintons allegedly illegally fired nonpolitical employees who handled White House travel so their positions could be filled with those loyal to the Clintons and the actual work of the office could be outsourced to other Clinton friends outside government. Again, this was only alleged.

  The Secret Service was involved in several ways.

  When Billy Dale, the long-serving nonpolitical head of the travel office, was accused of misconduct, it should have been the Secret Service’s job to investigate. But the case was thin, and the service declined. The Clintons needed evidence, as they could not simply fire the seven travel office employees so they could outsource millions of dollars of work privately to their friends the Thomasons. The Clinton lawyers hoped they could drum up evidence of wrongdoing at the travel office under the previous administration and therefore at least arouse enough suspicion to warrant firing Dale. So the White House attorneys pressured the FBI to take up the investigation of Dale, who was prosecuted but found not guilty in 1995.