Classified Woman (17 page)

F
or the first four months after Attorney General Ashcroft invoked the (then) ultra-rare State Secrets Privilege to block my case from moving forward in the courts—in effect, gagging me and my reports—activity in my court case consisted of the government requesting delays in filing its response and the IG postponing release of its report.

During the first week in November 2002 I called my attorney to inquire about the status of the IG report. After contacting the Senate offices that same day, Colapinto called to let me know that the IG had extended the release date to early January. According to the Senate staff, the IG had been unsuccessful in obtaining the relevant files from the bureau and had come up with additional witnesses who had to be interviewed—in other words, more foot-dragging. Was this a coordinated attempt by the DOJ and the IG office? How would this affect everything else we were doing: our FOIA claim, our primary case, and the ongoing congressional investigation that was largely dependent on completion of this report?

Colapinto shared my concerns, yet our hands were tied, he said. We had to sit and wait. One positive note, he assured me: our case was in the hands of a reputable judge, Judge James Robertson. Once the case got to the discovery stage and hearings, he promised, we would be vindicated.

That only cause for optimism, our one good fortune in having a just judge, would be taken away in less than three months. The government that had gone to such lengths had more in store for me; and as my attorneys and I waited for justice to take its course, unseen actors were plotting their next move to shoot the downed messenger again.

On February 6, 2003, about six months after we had filed our primary case with the district court and less than four months after the attorney general had invoked the State Secrets Privilege, the court notified us that my case had been removed from Judge Robertson and was now assigned to Judge Reggie Walton—a recent appointee of President George W. Bush. No reason was cited by the court for this unforeseen and highly suspicious move.

Very briefly, from what Colapinto had been able to find out, Judge Walton had assumed his position as a U.S. District Judge for the District of Columbia in October 2001 after being nominated to the position by Bush and confirmed by the Senate. Between 1989 and 1991, he had served as Poppy Bush’s associate director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy in the White House. Walton had been a Bush-team insider for years. He had risen quickly in the Washington legal establishment, earning an appointment from former president Reagan to a District of Columbia superior court judgeship. He was later taken under the wing of the self-styled man of virtue William Bennett, serving as a top gun in the White House Office of National Drug Control Policy during Bennett’s tenure there.

Based on this scrap, I could smell conspiracy and predict with near certainty an upcoming disaster for us in this man’s court. The bureau’s retaliation against my report and the arcane state secrets ploy had occurred on this administration’s watch, more likely than not with their knowledge and approval. Walton was their pick; he was their man.

I was concerned about Walton’s previous position in the office of the drug czar. I knew of illegal narcotics activities that involved obtaining, moving and distributing opium-derived products from the East—mainly Afghanistan—to Western Europe and the United States by Joint Turkish and Albanian organized crime, with full cooperation of certain arms of NATO and with the full knowledge of the State Department and certain individuals in the Pentagon. I was also aware of the intentional cover-up by the U.S. government, or at least certain components, that included not only protecting the players from becoming targets of real investigations by U.S. law enforcement agencies (including the DEA) but in some cases supplementing their operations. After all, the proceeds from these illegal activities went a long way toward enabling Turkey and some Central Asian countries to procure U.S.–made weapons and materiel, some of which ended up in countries under international sanctions via false end user certificates and other illegal arms sales channels.

In 2003, we were not aware of
half
of the red flags alerting us to Reggie Walton. In the years ahead, other deeply troubling facts about him would come to light.

All federal judges are required under ethics rules to file what are known as
financial disclosure reports
. The disclosure statement filed by Walton, obtained in 2005 by a conservative watchdog group, Judicial Watch, was completely redacted, every line of it. The entire document was blacked out.

Judge Walton was one of a very few—in fact, less than a handful—of federal judges who had redacted every single word from his financial disclosure statement. What was hiding in his fiscal closet? He refused to disclose his participation or interest in any businesses outside his job with the court. Did he have financial shares in any of the more than one hundred foreign front companies engaged in narcotics, money laundering and illegal arms sales (and, thus, the necessary bribing and blackmailing of elected and appointed U.S. government officials)? Did Walton serve on the boards of any of the many nonprofit and lobbying front organizations that were movers and shakers within these shadowy, illegal networks?

Also, notably, that same year Judge Walton just happened to be “randomly” assigned to another high-profile whistleblower’s case, in which a top White House aide, Scooter Libby, was indicted: the so-called Valerie Plame affair. Joseph Wilson, Plame’s husband and a former ambassador, alleged (along with others) that the disclosure of Plame’s identity as a former CIA agent was done purposely, in retaliation for Wilson’s criticism and whistleblowing, and that such illegal disclosure, or “outing,” did in fact endanger both Plame and national security. Per the CIA’s request, a special counsel was appointed to lead the investigation, and when the case targeting primarily White House officials was filed, low and behold, Walton appeared as the judge. Quite randomly, I’m sure.

I wanted a straightforward counterattack. My attorneys tried to persuade me otherwise, yet I asked them nonetheless to file a motion with the courts requesting that they investigate this suspicious transfer—to at least give us one good reason why it was done. I was told of the unwritten pact among judges to protect one another and watch each other’s backs. According to my attorneys, if we were to do what I suggested, we’d “piss off” Walton and get on the wrong side of the court and other judges.

“Are you suggesting that we do nothing and let them get away with this?”

They had a plan, Colapinto explained. “You have another case: your FOIA claim before Judge Huvelle. That case was filed before your primary case … There is a law … that says if two separate claims are relevant, deal with the same plaintiff and defendant, then if one case, for whatever reason, has to be transferred from one judge to another, the presiding judge on the other relevant claim should be given the case.” He continued, “Basically, according to this law, we can file a claim with the court saying that your cases are considered relevant ‘sister’ cases. Thus this case should be removed from Walton and assigned to Huvelle, who has presided on your FOIA case since July.”

That made perfect sense. They would file the request within the next four weeks.

I asked them about the IG report. Here it was already February, and I had not heard anything. None of my calls to the Senate had been returned. I had asked my attorney and Kolesnik, who had high-level contacts at Senator Grassley’s office, to look into it.

They exchanged peculiar glances. Finally, Colapinto cleared his throat. “Sibel, we finally got a response from the senator’s office. The IG notified them of another short delay, extension. They promised the Senate the report will be released by the end of April, only two months from now … this time they actually promised. According to what we heard from the Senate, the IG is done with the investigation and is busy typing and reviewing the final report before releasing it.”

I exploded. “What do they mean by that? They haven’t responded to Sarshar’s request to be interviewed; he is one of my witnesses. According to Sarshar, the IG has not contacted the two counterterrorism agents or Amin for an interview. Matthew has not been interviewed. Now they say they’re finished? Typing my ass! What’s the Senate going to do? Just sit there and take this bullshit indefinitely? … What’s the point in asking for an expedited and thorough report, when these guys lie through their teeth and make a mockery of this entire process?”

I paused to catch my breath. “I’m tired of this. I’ve had it. I cannot take this anymore …”

“Okay, you know what, I had forgotten about these witnesses not being interviewed,” Colapinto admitted, partly, I’m sure, to try to calm me. “I’ll draft a letter this evening and send it to the IG. I promise.” I silently nodded. Everybody sat there in silence. The meeting was obviously over.

On March 13, 2003, one month after the case was mysteriously transferred to Judge Walton, we filed our motion to retransfer the case to Judge Ellen Huvelle, the presiding judge over my FOIA case, based on the fact that the two cases were related.

To our joy and relief, on May 7, the court granted our motion. They removed my case from Walton and transferred it to Huvelle.

The sense of vindication and relief lasted only two short days. On May 9, two days after we were notified of our victory, we received a court notification letter informing us that they had retransferred the case from Huvelle back to Walton. No reason provided.

The Department of Justice and FBI had not given up their game of shopping for judges. I was now up against the director of the FBI, Mueller; the attorney general of the United States, Ashcroft; the Justice Department’s IG, Glenn Fine; and the federal court in DC.

There was nothing else we could do. We had to bite the bullet and fight a losing battle. Not only that, come April, the IG once again failed to issue any report. This time, the IG didn’t even bother to provide an expected release date.

In early April, after letters from Colapinto, the IG finally interviewed Matthew in the presence of my attorneys. They had yet to interview Sarshar, though, and I had not been asked to go and verify the FBI files that would vindicate me. I knew that report would never come out. Sure, they’d release something once the 2004 presidential election was over, after all the key suspects and witnesses were long gone, including Ashcroft. Whatever ended up being released, I was quite certain that the substance of their internal investigation would be classified, falsified, or diluted completely.

Then, too, the Senate became puzzlingly quiet. They were no longer communicating with my attorneys or with me. Had the government gotten to our supporters and allies in Congress? Was it as Agent Saccher had warned me about—that these senators had been blackmailed into silence? I was told the administration played rough.

Strangest of all was the resignation and coolness I’d detected in my attorneys that month. I knew they had not expected this. I had seen their shock and fear; I saw their justifiable reluctance to take on Walton.

My attorneys had recently experienced another rare and unexpected development: on our FOIA case, Judge Huvelle had ordered the FBI to present the court with a Vaughn Index (an index–list) of every document they were withholding. The government had produced the list but requested that it be released only to the judge, ex parte and in camera. They asked the judge to withhold it from us, citing sensitivity, secrecy and national security. Even more unsettling, Huvelle had granted their request. So here we were, ready to file, but how could we argue against something we didn’t know? The reasons and list were secret. We couldn’t have access to either. Yet we were expected to argue against them.

Our earlier court date of March 6, 2003, had been postponed at the eleventh hour by Walton until July 25—over four months. While disappointed, my attorneys were not too upset, since they believed we would have at that time the much-anticipated IG report, which was expected to play a major role in the hearing and bolster the strength of their argument.

Of course, the IG report was
not
released by July, and our FOIA case hit an appalling snag. In a rare move, the government decided to classify the entire list of items they were withholding—the entire Vaughn Index. Still, we looked forward to the status hearing and our chance to actually argue the case and respond to the government’s assertions.

Less than twenty-four hours before the scheduled date on July 25, Judge Walton’s clerk issued another notification letter. The hearing, scheduled for the following day, was now canceled and postponed until mid-October. Again, no reasons were given.

Walton lived up to our predictions. He would drag this out and prevent a public hearing for as long as he could—and that proved a long time. The scheduled October hearing would be canceled almost without notice. No other hearing date was set. He would sit on this case for almost two years before deciding to inflict one last orchestrated blow.