‘Steele dossier’ exposed shoddy world of ‘private spies’
It was the most explosive allegation in a presidential campaign full of them.
In 2013, it was claimed, Donald Trump frolicked among peeing
prostitutes in the presidential suite of Moscow’s Ritz Carlton — and Russia’s
intelligence services had a video of the incident.
The bombshell was made public in January 2017 when BuzzFeed
published a collection of memos written by former British spy Christopher
Steele purportedly detailing Donald Trump’s “activities in Russia.”
The allegations were based solely on hearsay, and yet, they
rocketed around the world.
The so-called Steele Dossier is the most high-profile
product from a secretive, little-known and little-regulated industry known as
“private espionage.”
In the last decade the industry has exploded, bringing in
revenue of $2.5 billion in 2018, according to an estimate from ERG Partners, an
investment bank focusing on the intelligence industry. And private intelligence
is an industry that has existed largely in the shadows, despite the immense
influence it can sometimes wield.
“There’s this booming business out there that’s invading our
privacy, profiting from deception and manipulating the news, and it’s one we
have to be on guard against,” says Barry Meier, who shines a light on the
recent newsmakers in private espionage with his new book “Spooked: The Trump
Dossier, Black Cube, and the Rise of Private Spies” (Harper), out now.
Private intelligence began really taking off in the years
after the 9/11 attacks, when career government spies began bucking the longtime
tradition of not moving into the private sector.
“Private investigators once were content to lurk in the
shadows,” Meier writes. “Now, politicians were hiring them to dig up dirt on
opponents, companies were employing them to torpedo investigations into their
activities by authorities or journalists, and dictators were using them as
freelance intelligence agents.”
And few incidents illustrate the power — as well as the
potential problems — with this shadow world as well as the Steele Dossier.
Christopher Steele, a 50-something former MI6 agent who had
been stationed in Moscow back in the 1990s, fits the profile of those who
frequently work in the private spying business, Meier says.
“They’re often a retired government spy or over-the-hill
agent who is basically shopping their past and living off the skills that they
developed while they were working for the government,” he says.
After retiring from MI6, Steele launched a London investigation
firm called Orbis Business Intelligence.
For his work on the Steele Dossier, the former spy was
contracted by Fusion GPS, a DC-based intelligence company run by two former
Wall Street Journal reporters, Glenn Simpson and Peter Fritsch, who had decided
to turn their journalistic investigative skills to other ends.
Simpson and Fritsch’s mission to uncover dirt on Trump
started in 2015, when a billionaire Republican supporter of Marco Rubio named
Paul Singer hired Fusion GPS to collect opposition research on the candidate
from New York.
By April 2016, when it had become clear that Trump was going
to be the Republican nominee, Singer stopped funding the operation.
Simpson and Fritsch, however, wanted to continue following
leads on Trump, particularly about his activities in Russia. Through a lawyer
named Marc Elias, Fusion GPS found a new patron in Hillary Clinton, who,
according to ABC News, paid $1 million.
“During Clinton’s tenure as secretary of state in the Obama
administration, she had taken a hostile stance toward Vladimir Putin,” the
author writes. “Now any information linking Trump to Moscow could provide her
with ammunition.”
Simpson considered himself a Russia expert, but now that
Clinton was paying the bills, he went in search of someone “closer to the
action.” He hired Steele in May 2016.
ONE of the advantages private spies have is that they are
often not bound by the same rules and ethics as government officials or
journalists. Operatives from outfits like Black Cube, an Israeli company that
was hired by Harvey Weinstein to dig up dirt on his accusers, have been known
to impersonate documentary filmmakers or befriend subjects under false
pretenses in order to get close to sources.
“If a person defrauds you out of money they can be
prosecuted because that’s a crime,” the author says. “But if someone is making
money by defrauding you out of information, that’s totally legal.”
Rather than use subterfuge to gain intelligence, Steele
simply paid a Russian “collector” named Igor Danchenko, who gathered intel on
his behalf.
In 2010, Danchenko’s employer — a company that prepared risk
assessments for firms looking to do business in Russia — went out of business.
Danchenko was soon introduced to Steele by a mutual acquaintance. In 2012,
“Steele paid him to take his first trip to Russia as an operative to gather
information about a businessman’s possible ties to Russian organized crime,”
Meier writes.
‘Even if a journalist believed Steele, there was no way to
confirm what he had said.’
“Steele was boasting that he had this wired Russian
collector that had deep connections to people in the Kremlin,” Meier says. “But
it turned out that his collector was this kind of schlumpy ex-Russian lawyer
who had drifted into the world of private spying.”
In turn, Danchenko got his information from a network of
childhood friends and drinking buddies, who would tell him, “I just overheard
such-and-such about an issue.”
The pee tape allegation came from one of Danchenko’s sources
who reported there was a “well-known” rumor that Trump was into “water sports”
and had indulged at the fancy Moscow hotel, Meier writes. Danchenko followed up
by speaking to hotel employees, one of whom told him, “all kinds of things
happen[ed]” there, which Danchenko took as corroboration.
Steele never verified the information or saw the video. He
included the rumor in his memo because he felt it wasn’t his job to cherry-pick
information, but rather to pass along all the unvetted, so-called “raw
intelligence.”
“This is the fuel that the entire industry runs on. It’s
smoke,” Meier says.
“Raw intelligence is almost like an insult to the word
intelligence because it suggests there’s something intelligent to the
information that’s being provided. Most of the time it’s dreck and rumors.”
The murky nature of Steele’s dossier didn’t stop the former
spy and Fusion GPS from working relentlessly to pass along the intelligence to
journalists and government officials — a key job of private spies. The spies
and those who hire them “want to make the public aware of information they gather,”
Meier says. “It doesn’t do them any good for this stuff to be gathered and to
sit in some lawyer’s back room.”
Steele had for months tried to pass along the information he
had collected to an FBI source, but when the G-man wasn’t interested, he and
Fusion GPS stepped up their media offensive.
In fall 2016, Steele hosted an off-the-record press junket
at fancy DC-based hotel the Tabard Inn, in which reporters from outlets
including Yahoo! News, The New Yorker, The New York Times and CNN were cycled
through to hear his presentation on the dossier, “Spooked” reportsaccording to
Meier.
Inside a meeting room, over a spread of food, Simpson
introduced Steele, who presented his case, though he did note that his
information still needed to be confirmed.
“Even if a journalist believed Steele, there was no apparent
way to independently confirm what he had said,” Meier writes. As a result, just
one article appeared on the heels of the Tabard Inn meetings: a piece by
Michael Isikoff from Yahoo! News about US intel officials probing Trump adviser
Carter Page.
Then, in December 2016, BuzzFeed reporter Ken Bensinger
attended a Fusion GPS retreat in San Francisco. At the party, Simpson told
Bensinger about the dossier and the alleged pee tape. Bensinger was interested
and eventually was able to photograph the dossier’s pages in the office of an
aide to John McCain.
In January 2017, CNN aired a vague report that FBI director
James Comey had briefed Trump about potential Russian kompromat. BuzzFeed
editor Ben Smith, fearful that he was going to get scooped, made the snap
decision to publish the dossier online.
From there, the unverified allegations in the Steele Dossier
burst into the mainstream, and Meier says the whole saga exposed an unsavory
alliance.
“It raises serious questions about how journalists and
private intelligence firms interact with each other,” Meier says. “It spoke to
this very hyper-partisan and fragmented media world that we’re living in now
that allows disinformation to flourish on both sides of the spectrum.”
Despite some of Steele’s dossier having been debunked — most
notably the accusation that Trump’s lawyer, Michael Cohen, traveled to Prague
to meet with Russian spies — Meier says the private intelligence industry has
not been cowed.
After being forced into hiding in 2017 when his name was
revealed, Christopher Steele is now back to work with Orbis and other companies
he runs. Fusion GPS is also still operational.
“They absolutely have not learned a lesson,” Meier says.
“Their exploits, as unappealing as they may be to the general public, have
instead become calling cards. Companies or law firms will say to themselves,
‘Hey, Black Cube was willing to do anything to trick people and scam people and
get information out of people.’
“ ‘Those are the people I want working for me.’ ”
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