A Secret Side to the Secret Service

This week the judge, who has repeatedly expressed her irritation at the agency's slow response to her demands, is set to hold a hearing on whether the Service should be severely sanctioned by the court. Legal sources involved in the case, who asked for anonymity discussing litigation strategy, say the agency's attorneys are concerned they might have pushed the judge too far. Government attorneys worry the judge could pronounce a "default" judgment in favor of the plaintiffs, or possibly limit defense evidence the Service lawyers could present at trial.

The agents' lawyers say the alleged stonewalling is evidence that Service officials knew there was something to hide—and that the e-mails and noose incident illustrate a "good ole boy" culture that tolerates racial bigotry. Unsurprisingly, agency officials tell a very different story. They haven't settled the case, they say, because the agents' complaints aren't true. Settling "would have been an easier road to take, but our agency is bound by principle," Zahren, the spokesman, tells NEWSWEEK. "We're not perfect. But when you feel you're right, you stick to your guns." Zahren says Service records show that far from being held back, black agents have moved up in rank as quickly as whites. "It actually takes less time for African-Americans to be promoted to managerial levels" than it does for whites, he says. The Service gave NEWSWEEK a stack of statistics to back up this claim.

The agents' lawyers, of course, have enlisted number crunchers of their own who argue that just the opposite is true. As with most disputes about discrimination, the truth isn't easy to sort out. A maybe-noose and a handful of racist e-mails don't, by themselves, amount to a pervasive culture of racism—and bigotry in the ranks isn't necessarily evidence that blacks have been systematically denied promotion. African-Americans—including some of the agents suing the Service—have held very senior positions within the agency, and some of the supervisors who blocked promotions of black agents were themselves black. Yet African-American agents say there's nothing subtle about racial tension at the Service, and it is understood that to rise beyond a certain point takes patience, and a willingness to keep quiet.

All 10 of the plaintiffs are or were Special Agents, the Service's elite members who protect the president and other high government officials. The man behind the lawsuit is no rabble-rouser. Reginald (Ray) Moore, a 24-year veteran of the Service, is a GS-15 supervisor—the highest career civil-service rank—and the head of recruitment for the agency. Now 49, Moore says his promotion came only after years of being passed over by less-qualified whites.

On paper, at least, Moore looked like he was on the Service's fast track. He was a member of President Bill Clinton's security detail. In 1999, he headed a team of agents who protected four presidents—Clinton, Bush, Carter and Ford—at the funeral of Jordan's King Hussein. As a reward for excellent performance, he was made acting head of the Joint Operations Center, which runs security for the White House complex, with an understanding the job would become permanent. Instead, he said in a sworn statement, the position "was given to a white Agent who had never been on the President's Protective Detail and had never been in the Joint Operations Center."

Service officials say Moore was not a victim of discrimination. One of the supervisors in charge of deciding who would get the job, they say, was also black. At that time, the Service says, there was an agencywide push to put experienced agents into the field, and Moore—who was reassigned to Dallas—was one of them.