The Economist Asia - February 10, 2018

36 United States The EconomistFebruary 10th 2018

1

2 sprawling, complex investigation, which

began not with him but, three months be-

fore he fell under surveillance, with

George Papadopoulos, another lightly

qualified foreign-policy adviser, who has

since pled guilty to lying to federal investi-

gators. The memo does not say that the FBI

and DOJrelied entirely on Mr Steele’s evi-

dence in applying for a surveillance war-

rant. It asserts that Andrew McCabe, a for-

mer deputyFBIdirector, told the House

intelligence committee that “no surveil-

lance warrant would have been sought”

without Mr Steele’sdossier. Democrats on

the committee saythis is a distortion.

The memo does a poorjob ofexplain-

ing why Mr Steele should not be trusted.

He ran the Russia desk for Britain’s foreign-

intelligence service and provided solid in-

telligence for the FBIbefore. His objection

to Mr Trump seems to have stemmed from

his belief that the candidate had been com-

promised by Russian intelligence. That is

not the same as political bias. The same

could be said forFBIagents investigating

the Trump campaign’s alleged ties to Rus-

sia. As for Mr Page, he had been on the FBI’s

radar since 2013, when Russian intelligence

tried to recruit him. The court found suffi-

cient cause to renew the 90-day surveil-

lance warrant three times.

Congressional Republicans have none-

theless rallied around the memo. Matt

Gaetz, perhaps Mr Trump’s strongest sup-

porter in Congress, said it showed “a sys-

temic pattern ofabuse” in the FBIand Jus-

tice Department. That is hardly surprising.

As Asha Rangappa, a formerFBIagent who

now teaches at Yale University, notes, “For

the people who were already convinced,

the memo could have said, ‘I’m Jesus’ in

purple crayon 50 times, and it would have

proved that Mueller is wrong.”

Democrats on the House intelligence

committee claim that Republicans cherry-

picked evidence. They have written a re-

buttal memo, which the presidentmust de-

classifybefore it can be released to the pub-

lic. Should Mr Trump do so, it probably

will make little difference politically.

Democrats will believe one version of the

truth, Republicans another.

And the damage will have been done.

The Republican version of the story por-

trays America’s chief law-enforcement

agency—whose former director, James Co-

mey, may have swung the election to Mr

Trump when he publicly reopened an in-

vestigation into Mrs Clinton just days be-

fore the vote in 2016—as well as the DOJ,

helmed by Mr Trump’s appointee, as nests

of devious liberals plotting to take down

the president. This untruth appears to have

caught on. A Reuters poll released on Feb-

ruary 4th shows that73% of Republicans

now believe the FBIand Justice Depart-

ment are “working to delegitimise Trump

through politically biased investigations.”

That suits Mr Trump perfectly. Firing Mr

Mueller would be extremely risky. It could

even remind congressional Republicans

that they are members of an equal branch

of government who took an oath to sup-

port and defend the constitution, not Mr

Trump and his family. Muddying the wa-

ters is probably a more effective strategy. If

anti-Trump bias pervades America’s feder-

al law-enforcement bodies, why believe

anything Mr Mueller says?

But that question has an obverse. If in-

telligence sources believe the president

might reveal confidential information

whenever he deems it politically advanta-

geous, why tell America anything? “What

the memo has done,” says Ms Rangappa,

“is advertise that the FBIcannot protect

you.” Israel is already reconsidering its in-

formation-sharing after Mr Trump blithely

revealed classified intelligence to Russian

officials. Other countries may follow suit—

not immediately, of course, and not entire-

ly, because they still need America’s intelli-

gence and data-gathering. But when peo-

ple with vital information have to decide

between going to leaky America and going

elsewhere, elsewhere may look increasing-

ly appealing. 7

U

NDERcover of darkness, in a small

town between the Missouri River and

the Nebraska border, 19 people met on Jan-

uary 29th in a conference room to decide

the presidency—of the Burke Riding Club.

Nobody seemed to want the job. “There

are only two ways to get out of your re-

sponsibilities: you have to die or move,

and I don’t plan on doing either,” warned

Todd Hoffman, a rangy, affable man. “Or

you can run for governor”, said Billie Sut-

ton, the club’s current president. “That’s

not necessarily an out, Billie,” joked Mr

Hoffman. “Governors really don’t do that

much.” Mr Sutton, who is in fact running

for governor, laughed harder than anyone

else in the room.

His quest seems the longest of shots.

South Dakota last elected a Democratic go-

vernor in 1974. Its delegation in Congress is

entirely Republican; Republicans hold

overwhelming majorities in both of the

state legislative chambers; and Donald

Trump won nearly twice as many votes as

Hillary Clinton in 2016. Yet Mr Sutton has

both a plausible path to victory and les-

sons to teach other Democrats about how

to compete in rural America.

He also has a compelling personal

story. Mr Sutton, a fifth-generation South

Dakotan, began rodeo riding when he was

four years old. He attended the University

of Wyoming on a rodeo scholarship, even-

tually becoming one of the top 30 riders in

A Democrat in South Dakota

Plains speaking

BURKE

A former rodeo champion tries to snap a Democratic losing streak