An old tale goes something like this. A rich man asks a beautiful woman if she’ll sleep with him for a million dollars. “Sure!” she replies. “How about for a hundred bucks?” he asks. She indignantly responds, “What kind of woman do you think I am?” He answers, “We’ve determined that, madam. We’re just haggling over the price.”
This hoary old chestnut came to mind when news broke that the FBI seized Senate Intelligence Committee Chairman Richard Burr’s cellphone, pursuant to a warrant issued by a judge upon probable cause, in an investigation of Burr allegedly misusing information from a classified Feb. 4 briefing on the coronavirus to dump as much as $1.7 million in stock on Feb. 12.
Stock markets shed nearly 30% of their value over the next five weeks. Aggravating the situation are Burr’s contradictory statements to constituents in public on Feb. 7 that the United States “is better prepared than ever before to face emerging public health threats, like the coronavirus” and to donors in private on Feb. 24 that coronavirus would resemble the cataclysmic Spanish flu pandemic of 1918.
The surrender of Burr’s phone to law enforcement was not done quietly and voluntarily through counsel, as in a typical white-collar case with a cooperative witness. The facts, as alleged, could amount to securities fraud under Securities and Exchange Commission Rule 10b5-1.
Burr, like any citizen, is innocent until proven guilty. But the senator should also be investigated for potential violations of the Espionage Act.
A member of the congressional “Gang of Eight,” Burr was briefed on America’s most confidential intelligence analyses, which are source-revelatory to readers who understand how raw human, imagery, and signals intelligence reporting work. They are briefed on our collection capabilities. The Gang is also briefed on all covert actions, which involve people serving in maximum danger behind enemy lines.
After the briefing, Burr reportedly got on an unsecured phone to his uncleared broker, as well as his uncleared brother. Together, they dumped stock.
Leaving aside significant criminal penalties for potential mail, securities, tax, and wire fraud violations (as well as conspiracy) from insider trading, the U.S. code provides that anyone entrusted to classified information who through gross negligence allows it to be “delivered to anyone in violation of his trust” or who uses signals intelligence “in any manner prejudicial to the safety or interest of the United States” is subject to a decade in prison.
Burr faces real legal jeopardy. And for a man facing decades in prison, there is nothing in Burr’s anodyne biography to suggest either the hardness of an old-school, “stand-up guy” (as my Hell’s Kitchen ancestors might have put it) who is willing to take the weight in a jam silently, or special empathy for the men and women of the intelligence community.
Burr’s main interest in the intelligence committee was widely understood on Capitol Hill to be a simple matter of home-state politics: support for a fast-growing intel enterprise in North Carolina. Like most members of Congress who came of age since the end of the draft, Burr passed smoothly from undistinguished but remunerative private business — he was sales manager for a lawn care company — to politics. Unlike old bulls in post-war Congresses, he did not spend even brief time in uniform or serve in the diplomatic corps, intel services, or law enforcement.
One thing that does stand out about Burr is that he was one of just five members of Congress (less than 1%) to vote against 2012’s “Stop Trading on Congressional Knowledge” STOCK Act, which sought to combat insider trading by representatives and senators. It is now reasonable to assume why: He apparently wanted to make insider trades.
Like most potential intelligence sources, Burr was unsatisfied, for reasons of need or ego, to live honestly on his salary — in his case, a neither princely nor insignificant $174,000 a year with benefits and a pension. But not enough, evidently, for Burr.
Intelligence services are surely now scrubbing records of Burr’s trades against press reports of leaks on classified briefings he received. These may reveal U.S. capabilities, or gaps, suggested by the chairman being bullish or bearish on publicly traded defense contractors that advertise their wares.
Every intelligence service looks to spot, assess, develop, and recruit sources with access to classified information, motivations to share it, and the suitability for clandestine relationships. In emergencies, serious intel services “cold pitch” those with extraordinary access who suddenly become vulnerable — offering them tens of millions of dollars, exfiltration from perilous situations, and resettlement in a new country. A Senate Intelligence Committee chairman facing years in prison presents a rare opportunity for hostile services.
It is a sad observation about racial inequity that a black man in Washington, D.C., who posed a flight risk as serious as Burr does, would already be wearing a colorful jumpsuit at the Central Detention Facility at 1901 D Street in Southeast. It is a similarly true observation about class differences in this country that a working-class white man posing such risks would also be enjoying bologna sandwiches at the infamous jail. Indeed, anyone other than a GOP senator representing a state with a Democratic governor, who could appoint his replacement during a Republican presidency, would be wisely advised to keep a toothbrush handy.
Nonpartisan career law enforcement officials and our independent judiciary should do the right thing if Burr is indicted: put him immediately into custody as he awaits trial. Anything else is a risk to national security.
Kevin Carroll was senior counselor to the secretary of Homeland Security and the chairman of the House Homeland Security Committee, law clerk to a U.S. district judge, and a CIA and Army officer. He is a contributor to the Washington Examiner’s Beltway Confidential blog.
