Following my trip to Bolivia, I was interviewed by AMI Magazine; a weekly, worldwide magazine with its finger on the pulse of Jewish issues around the globe.  Last week, their cover story was on Jacob Ostreicher, who I had the privilege of meeting at the smarmy slum that is Palmasola Prison. I believe their article expands on the entirety of Jacob's story, and with their permission, I reprint it here. 


“What goes on in Cartagena stays in Cartagena.” At least that was the ops plan.

This week the Secret Service revoked the security clearances of the eleven agents involved in the Colombian prostitution scandal. Employment (and significantly, continued employment) as a Secret Service agent requires several things, and arguably the most important is a Top Secret clearance. When agents’ conduct falls short of expectations, even if their behavior is legal, clearances can and are revoked. Without a clearance, an agent is no longer employable.

Special Agents, whether FBI, Secret Service or any of the myriad of other federal law enforcement agencies, know going in that they will be held to higher standards than the average citizen. For example, they are prohibited from engaging in many legal activities, such as campaigning for a political candidate, taking a second job or writing books without authorization. They are on call 24/7/365, and know that certain behaviors which would be no more than personal speed-bumps in other people’s lives and careers would be career-enders in the Bureau. A DUI, a bankruptcy, marrying the “wrong” person or even a bad credit rating could jeopardize their clearances and therefore their jobs. I’ve seen an FBI agent fired for arguing loudly with his wife in public.

The truth of these special expectations is obvious when you realize that approximately 21 U.S. government personnel have been sent home from Colombia under investigation. 11 were Secret Service, and the rest were U.S. military. Have you seen many headlines on the military involvement? America has certain expectations of Secret Service agents.

Though the agents in Colombia were apparently not breaking any Colombian or American law, they embarrassed the United States. If you wonder if that’s true, check out what Al Jazeera is doing with the story. Every agent is aware that sex (and/or blackmail following sex) can and is used by foreign governments to elicit information from their targets. Whether it is legal prostitution or a girl (or guy) targeting an agent at a bar, blackmail is always a possibility, especially when the agent is married. Additionally, a common form of robbery in some parts of the world is picking up and drugging a “John” in order to rob him. Some men who pick up hookers wake up in the morning finding nothing left in their room but the underwear they never got a chance to take off.  Agents overseas who do not believe that they are being watched and evaluated for exploitation by intelligence agencies of even some “friendly” governments, are naïve.

Secret Service agents know as much or more than other agents about the potential implications of “risky” behavior because they’re in the business of personnel protection. These agents had no excuse. Likely, however, if only one agent had been involved, this would never have made the news. If the problem was discovered by the Secret Service, it never would have made the news. Instead, the State Department was involved when Colombian police complained to the Embassy. The size and scope of this particular incident was epic and the lack of discretion Biblical. A drunken party at the official hotel with a dozen hookers, loud enough to cause noise complaints? Then you argue with a hooker about price? I think clearances might be in jeopardy just for lack of judgment while displaying lack of judgment.

The Secret Service, like the FBI, has within its structure an organization known as the Office of Professional Responsibility, or OPR. OPR, as the name might suggest, does not simply investigate agents engaging in illegal activities, but legal activities prohibited by their special employment. The Justice Department (parent organization of the FBI) and Homeland Security (parent organization of the Secret Service) have their own Offices of Professional Responsibility. Secret Service and the FBI have fought for years to maintain the autonomy of conducting their own internal investigations. They have done that by having tough, unforgiving OPR investigations and punishments.

However, in this case, it is clear that the public will not accept an internal investigation as legitimate. Homeland Security will indeed swoop in and conduct the investigation. Likely congress will also conduct hearings. It is crucial that the investigation be open and comprehensive. This behavior did not begin in Colombia. A complete investigation of the activities of Secret Service agents on foreign travel for years in the past will likely follow. Regardless of the outcome, the Secret Service will be less autonomous now than it was before the Colombia scandal.

The U.S. government has some soul-searching to do in this case, however. Throughout the history of the U.S. military, it has been a given that a significant number of soldiers, sailors and airmen, when on leave soon find two things very quickly; alcohol and prostitutes. This has never been a secret from the American public. Towns like Olongopo, just outside the sprawling U.S. Navy base at Subic Bay in the Philippines were at one time little more than support communities for the brothels on Magsaysay street. Navy Shore Patrol (police) patrolled Olongopo not to curtail prostitution, but simply to keep order.  Anywhere in the world where a U.S. military base sprang up, so did brothels. The military will have a hard time defining the location of the line crossed, given the tolerance it has displayed in the past.

It is a mistake to believe that non-military Americans are altogether different than military Americans. Agents involved in U.S. government business, whether State Department, Justice Department or Homeland Security are not taking advantage of lax local laws and women when overseas. It is also a mistake to believe that the U.S. government has until now done anything to discourage this behavior beyond hanging posters about sexually transmitted diseases. When I was first deployed on an overseas assignment with a group of agents, we were not warned to avoid prostitutes, but of the AIDS percentage among prostitutes in the area into which we were deploying. We were then briefed on precautions against STD’s. Don’t think that anybody in the U.S. government didn’t know that this type of behavior was going on.

The only time that this type of activity becomes an issue for the U.S. government is when the discretion is absent among the participants. As a supervisor of overseas personnel, I have had to travel thousands of miles to deal with an agent who transgressed FBI regulations without breaking a single local or U.S. law, but whose behavior created an incident.

Alcohol is cheap and prostitution legal in many South American cities, including the now infamous Cartagena, Colombia. I overflew Cartagena last week on my way back from a case in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. Prostitution is also legal and plentiful in Santa Cruz, also. Brothels on the main streets combine with strip clubs where customers can bring girls home for a fee. Like Las Vegas, many Americans for one reason or another are tempted to engage in activities when away from home that they would never consider when near home. Perhaps a psychologist would be a better person to speculate on why that is. But the seeming lack of accountability, pennies-on-the-dollar prices, and incredible availability are factors. To many men, it’s like an outlet mall for sex. The type of person drawn to military and law enforcement special teams are frequently the types of people drawn to adventure of other types. Some of the participants in the party which got out of hand in the president’s hotel were allegedly members of the Secret Service’s Counter Assault Team (CAT). When on SWAT, I worked with CAT teams during the Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles in 2000. They are no different than many other special teams “operators;” seeking action on and off duty, and easily bored.

I know people party and release tension when traveling on business. It is true that overseas deployments are some of the more stressful assignments. Like Hillary Clinton last week, I too have blown off some steam in overseas establishments which serve alcohol (but not women). There are limits, however to the license one may take. In the FBI you are never officially off-duty. One would have to assume that when the president is in-country, Secret Service agents must be ready to be on duty at any second. Judging from the cases they carried, they were armed. Could they have responded to a presidential threat? Would they have been functional or even sober? These are questions that must be answered.

Most troubling to me though is that this behavior was tolerated, enabled, condoned and/or facilitated by the supervisor(s) of the agents. Misbehavior on such a scale could not have occurred without supervisor knowledge. Or in this case, participation. When the boss is at the party, there’s reason to believe it’s sanctioned, or at least that the higher-ups are looking the other way. Or they were until the police and the Embassy got involved. I’m reminded of the scene in Casablanca when Vichy French Captain Louis Renault is told by the Gestapo to close down Rick’s Café Americain. As he is being handed his roulette winnings for the night he exclaims,

“I’m shocked! Shocked to find out that gambling is going on in here!”

No, this was officially condoned behavior at least at some level and likely not an isolated incident. This activity received de facto authorization by at least the supervisor and likely his superior. The trick will be finding where the buck should truly stop.

Santa Cruz, Bolivia, April 7, 2012:

Palmasola Prison, Santa Cruz, Bolivia, is a modern-day Dante's Inferno. But instead of  the Roman poet Virgil guiding visitors through this modern-day underworld, my passage  is shepherded by a good man named Jacob. 

When one thinks "Bolivian Prison," one might think 'barbarian.' But really, that word is so inadequate in this case. 

Palmasola itself is a series of concentric rings of walls and barbed wire. In the center ring is a squalid slum where the prisoners--and their children--live, and into which guards venture only a few times a day when all of the prisoners stand for roll call. (Unless, of course, you are one of the hundreds who have enough money to bribe your way out of appearing for roll call.) In actual fact, the prison is completely run by a mafia of powerful prisoners. They charge the others for their cells, taxes on "imported" items and privileges, and extortion money. Those who cannot afford to pay for a cell sleep in the gutter. Food is a gulag-style gruel served once a day for those who lack the dinero to have their food brought in.  This is my third day with Jacob, an American incarcerated in the hell that is Palmasola, for a crime he did not commit. I would call it purgatory, but the concept of purgatory implies a temporary stay. There is no such promise at Palmasola.

There are many Americans in foreign jails who have earned their way there. Jacob is not one of them. And few human beings, even those guilty of crimes, have "earned" Palmasola. Open sewers run through the streets (yes, streets), and the prison garbage dump shares a plot of land with the prison kitchen. Cocaine sales, prostitution and footbol games are all equally sanctioned and 'above board.' They also take place within 20 yards of each other.  I saw all three of these recreational activities occur just today inside the prison.   It occurred to me  while strolling past the cocaine "store" yesterday with Jacob, that with cocaine in the prison selling at approximately 1/100 of the price of cocaine on the outside, users should just find a friend to start visiting.  Prostitution is even more convenient. Prisoners at the female prison within the same walls pay 10 Bolivianos ($1.50) for entry into the men's side, and charge 30 Bolivianos ($4.37) for each "trick." Or you can pay more for any of the local professionals who come in from town. This is not only endorsed, but facilitated by the authorities who rule the prison. And who are those authorities? The prisoners with the most power, of course.  And power is determined by money and/or violence.

That the prison is run by prisoners is not a figure of speech implicitly condemning an inefficient or corrupt system; it is a fact, of which the Bolivian government is proud. They have intentionally and officially ceded control of the interior of the prison to the prisoners. All the Bolivian guards do is essentially form a blockade around Palmasola so that no one escapes and only those things that the guards are paid to allow in are imported. Oh, and they drag out the bodies of the prisoners who are killed, usually on the average of on a month; and usually at the hands of the security prisoners. 

Members of the Disciplina Interna ("Internal Discipline," an appropriately chilling name) patrol the prison and enforce regulations, social convention and the power of the ruling prisoners. To be a member of the Interna Disciplina, you must of course be a prisoner and you must be sentenced to 30 years or more, which ensures that the very people who enforce "order" in the prison are those that committed the most heinous crimes. The huge person I paid to protect me, "Moso," is at least notionally one of the least violent ones; he only killed one woman. In reality, the Disciplina Interna are uniformed thugs who demand protection money from prisoners and visitors alike. Al Capone would be proud. 

In the middle of this hell is Jacob Ostreicher, a grandfather from Brooklyn who made the mistake of trying to start a rice farm in Bolivia. Actually, the mistake was not so much starting the farm, the mistake was being successful. When you are successful in Bolivia, you have money. If you have money, you might not support the ruling socialist party. If you don't support the ruling socialist party, you might give your money to a party in opposition to the people in charge. Then you are a threat to Evo Morales, the megalomaniac in charge of Bolivia. When you are a threat to Evo, you go to Palmasola. 

The prison is full of thieves and people more corrupt than you have likely experienced. And now I'm speaking of course, of the uniformed Bolivian guards who grant visitors access to the village of the damned. I have spent three days in this "prison" and each day, I have been robbed by guards who look me in the eye with a shameless "What are you going to do about it?" smirk as they took my money. Using a note written in Spanish that says that I do not speak their language (which I actually do), allowed me to hear the guards ridicule me, Americans and our culture. Entering the prison, visitors are branded with permanent ink stamps and 'Sharpie'-applied numbers. When I entered the first day, the guard told the line of Bolivians (in Spanish), "Instead of black ink, I'll use green for the gringo." Hilarity ensued. 
Jacob Ostriecher has been condemned to this hell because he had money, and he has so far refused to pay the bribes required for release. He has been in this hell for 11 months, and no trial for the trumped-up charges is even on the horizon, though he longs to have a chance to prove his innocence. In the meantime, he endures the beatings, the abuse and the extortion. 

Every night, I leave the prison promptly at 6:30 p.m. (the penalty for being late is spending the night in prison), suffering from a type of "survivor's guilt" . My guilt is from knowing that Jacob cannot leave, and that he is no more guilty of a crime than am I. 

Tomorrow, I go back. But every day as I leave, I wonder why the United States has a State Department. And I wonder where they are--and if they suffer from survivor's guilt.