Law enforcement officials across the country are using a new tactic to line their coffers: asset forfeiture. It may sound inconspicuous enough, and even good if you look at the Justice Department’s definition of the program: “The Department of Justice Asset Forfeiture Program encompasses the seizure and forfeiture of assets that represent the proceeds of, or were used to facilitate federal crimes. The primary mission of the Program is to employ asset forfeiture powers in a manner that enhances public safety and security. This is accomplished by removing the proceeds of crime and other assets relied upon by criminals and their associates to perpetuate their criminal activity against our society.”
In 2012, the program brought in $5.9 million in seized assets. Five major fraud cases brought in a total of $3.3 million alone. Now, you are probably thinking that this is great. Law enforcement officers are cleaning up the mean streets, taking away the criminals’ most valuable tools, and dismantling every modern day Tony Montana.
Yet like any government program, there are instances of abuse and negligence. For people on the other end of asset forfeiture, receiving justice in the face of unwarranted asset forfeiture is nearly impossible.
Asset forfeiture grew out of the War on Drugs of the 1980s, where once authorities have established a connection between a piece of property and criminal activity, the owner has to prove his or innocence or loose the property. This happens even if the person is never charged with a
crime.
There are federal and state asset-forfeiture laws. Thankfully, Congress reformed most of the federal procedures in 2000 to curtail abuse, but problems persist at the state level.
In January 2009 in Putnam County, Ind., Anthony Smelley was pulled over for making an unsafe lane change and driving with an obscured license plate. His driver’s license was also expired.
Instead of being issued citations for those violations, the $17,500 he had on him, which came from a larger car-accident settlement, to buy a new car was seized by the officer after Smelley was patted down.
A drug dog was called and alerted twice to the possibilities of drugs, yet a subsequent search yielded no drugs. Smelley and his passengers were never charged with a crime, yet his money was seized. Smelley was able to prove that the money came from a settlement, but because it could be used at a future date in a drug transaction, the money could be seized.
Hello, “1984.”
Putman County held Smelley’s money for over a year as Smelley wrangled with the county in court.
This is just one example. In Tenaha, Texas, as many as 1,000 minority drivers were pulled over, searched and had cash or other valuables wrongly seized, according to the American Civil Liberties Union.
At the state level, many of the seized assets go right back into the pockets of the seizing police department.
In the case of Smelley, the attorney representing Putnam County worked for several Indiana counties on a contractual basis and pocketed up to a third of what he won in court.
Many who’ve lost assets to asset-forfeiture laws never have the resources to fight their case in court. They have to prove their innocence without ever being charged with a crime. The state laws systematically pray on the minorities and the poor as a way to bolster police prescient across the country. Budgets are already tight, but harassing taxpayers to make up the difference is cowardly.
