Never fond of the media, Freeh has refused to get drawn into the ongoing controversy over the FBI’s performance in the period before September 11. As a private citizen, he is free to turn down requests from reporters for interviews. The surprising part is that he has also managed to avoid being hauled before Congress. Two separate and powerful committees are looking into the attacks and whether agencies like the FBI could have prevented them. Neither have questioned Freeh nor have they mentioned any plans to invite him to testify. Yet Freeh headed the FBI throughout most of the turbulent decade that gave rise to terrorism as a major threat, and remained in the job until just before the period under most scrutiny as the lead-up to September 11.
Freeh is the mystery man. Why are these committees treating him with such deference? Appointed FBI director by President Clinton in 1993, he was known for his straitlaced style and puritan views. He clashed repeatedly with the more freewheeling Clintonites, and lost what little respect he had for the president during the Lewinsky affair. Republicans loved him. He was one of them in spirit and in party registration. Clinton grumbled about Freeh all the time and wished he could fire him, but an FBI director’s 10-year term is unassailable except in extreme circumstances.
Freeh kept his last day in office secret almost until the end. He didn’t want to give his aides time to plan a going-away party, and departed with little fanfare on June 21, 2001. Two weeks later, the so-called Phoenix memo arrived at FBI headquarters urging a look at flight schools around the country because of the large number of stridently anti-American Middle Eastern men taking flying lessons. Two months later, agents in Minneapolis took into custody an Algerian-born French citizen, Zacarias Moussaoui, precipitating a battle with headquarters over gaining legal permission to search Moussaoui’s computer.
Neither request from the field rose high enough in the FBI hierarchy to make an impact. Granted, Freeh was no longer on the job. But these were his people and his procedures, and you would think that somebody would want to ask him a few questions. But neither the joint House-Senate Intelligence Committee nor the Senate Judiciary Committee intends to interview Freeh. It is a decision shared by both Democrats and Republicans, one of the rare instances in this contentious process where both parties agree.
The reasoning behind the decision offers a glimpse into the tangled politics of Washington during an election year. Democrats fear that Freeh, if provided a platform, would use it as an opportunity to point fingers at the Clinton administration. With former Attorney General Janet Reno vying for the Democratic nomination for governor in Florida, Democrats don’t want to risk revving up the Reno inquisition that Freeh fueled while he was at the FBI.
Freeh openly warred with Reno over her refusal to name a special counsel to investigate former Vice President Al Gore’s fundraising, and would likely welcome the chance to open that old wound.
Judiciary chairman Patrick Leahy has been accused of trying to protect the Clinton administration by refusing to call Freeh. In fact, Leahy and Freeh are personal friends and see each other socially. Leahy tried to get Freeh to testify shortly before he left office in June 2001–three months before the terror attacks. Having just taken over as chairman and scheduled the committee’s first oversight hearing of the FBI, Leahy wanted Freeh as his lead-off witness.. A whole set of questions was prepared for Freeh, including asking what advice he would give to the new director. Word came back that the director was unavailable. He was having his picture taken with the heads of the FBI field offices.
Republicans whisper that Freeh’s absence means that Democrats are afraid of spotlighting Clinton’s alleged lapses in fighting terrorism. But sources on the Judiciary Committee say that the Clinton administration has nothing to be embarrassed about on counter-terrorism. The number of intelligence officers at the FBI increased 357 percent under Reno; under Attorney General John Ashcroft, their numbers have decreased by 5 percent, even after September 11. But Republicans hate Clinton so much, they would find a way to slam him even if the facts don’t hold up.
Republicans usually don’t miss a chance to point out Clinton’s shortcomings, but they’re not eager either to put Freeh on the stand. The GOP protected Freeh to an extraordinary degree while he was director, perhaps in gratitude for his sharing their rabid distaste for Clinton and Reno. Any investigation of the FBI leading up to September 11 would expose the shamefully lax oversight the Judiciary Committee exercised over the agency under the chairmanship of Utah Republican Sen. Orrin Hatch. Freeh was the most high profile Republican in the Clinton administration, and the GOP-controlled committee treated him like he was made of glass. They handled him with great care.
There are legitimate questions to ask Freeh. Why did he let the FBI’s computer system deteriorate to the degree he did? Critics say Freeh didn’t appreciate computer technology and resisted using even e-mail. Supporters say he regularly implored Congress for more money to upgrade the computer system, but that lawmakers didn’t find such requests sexy and couldn’t brag about them at home, so Freeh’s pleadings often went nowhere. Did Freeh spend so much time traveling around the world that he didn’t pay attention to what was going on in our own backyard? Supporters and critics agree that while he could have done more at home, the relationships he built during those travels with foreign intelligence-gathering agencies have proved invaluable in the war on terrorism.
The problem with calling Freeh before Congress is that his presence would provoke a partisan mud fight. Freeh did some good things. He elevated terrorism as a priority and created the Counter Terrorism division and the Radical Fundamentalist Unit, which are central to the FBI’s mission today. “He didn’t do everything he could have, but that’s not a reason to hold him up as a scapegoat,” says a Senate Democratic aide. Freeh’s legacy isn’t all he may have hoped for, but it’s unlikely to be sullied by the events of September 11.
