Suspending the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act Feeds the Perception of Corruption
By Ambassador Patrick N. Theros - April 6, 2025
When
I first heard about the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act (FCPA) in 1977, I
was serving as the Commercial Attaché at the U.S. Embassy in Damascus,
Syria. The idea that American companies would be prohibited by law from
offering bribes to secure overseas contracts struck me as delusional. I
called it, only half joking, the ‘Lawyers’ Relief Act of 1977’, assuming
it would mire U.S. firms in litigation and leave them uncompetitive
against rivals from countries with fewer scruples. But decades in the
Foreign Service taught me just how wrong I had been.
Over time, the FCPA became one of the most valuable tools American business and diplomacy had at their disposal. It allowed U.S. companies to politely but firmly rebuff bribe solicitations by pointing to federal law. It gave American diplomats leverage to raise concerns in foreign capitals when corruption distorted markets or undermined competition. And above all, it helped American companies build a reputation for integrity – a reputational premium that, in many parts of the world, mattered more than people might imagine.
So, when President Trump announced in February that he was suspending enforcement of the FCPA for six months, I was stunned. His executive order instructed the Department of Justice to halt new investigations and pause existing ones unless deemed vital to national security. It framed anti-bribery enforcement as a barrier to American business, casting the law as a burden rather than an asset. The language hinted at a troubling shift: that international ethical standards might be viewed as negotiable when politically or economically inconvenient.
Public speculation in Washington has raised questions about whether the move could ease the path for certain business ventures, especially those associated with the President or his allies. For example, the Trump Organization is expanding overseas – notably in Vietnam and potentially in the Middle East – regions where real estate and hospitality transactions often involve opaque negotiations. Similarly, a Trump-linked cryptocurrency venture, World Liberty Financial, is seeking sovereign investment in emerging markets where transparency may be limited. These are precisely the types of ventures where FCPA oversight is traditionally relevant.
Some observers have noted that prominent figures in the administration’s orbit could, in theory, benefit from the relaxed enforcement environment. Elon Musk, who heads the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), is leading privatization efforts involving government real estate and restructuring public services. Musk’s companies – Tesla and SpaceX – have extensive operations in countries like China and Saudi Arabia, where navigating complex regulatory environments is part of doing business. While there is no evidence of wrongdoing, the FCPA’s suspension will raise questions.
Peter Thiel, a well-known investor and Trump ally, has deep ties in data infrastructure, biotech, and defense. Thiel-backed companies such as Palantir operate globally, often in highly sensitive government sectors. In such contexts, a less aggressive FCPA stance could reduce legal exposure even without implying any intent to act improperly.
Even Jeff Bezos, historically viewed as a Trump critic, now shares some overlapping policy interests with the administration due to Amazon’s growing role in defense, A.I. infrastructure, and international logistics. The company’s presence in complex markets like India, the Gulf, and parts of Africa could theoretically benefit from reduced compliance burdens – even where no improper conduct occurs.
The FCPA’s temporary suspension has already drawn international concern. In Latin America and Africa, some U.S. diplomats report unease among civil society groups and reform-minded officials who once viewed the U.S. as a standard-bearer for clean commerce. If Washington no longer enforces its own anti-corruption laws, its influence in promoting global accountability may weaken.
Far from being a burden, the FCPA has historically given American companies a competitive edge. When a foreign official demands a payoff, U.S. firms can say: “We can’t. It’s against U.S. law.” That ends the conversation. It saves time, avoids risk, and supports honest entrepreneurs abroad who wish to operate on a level playing field.
There was a time when the United States led by example. The FCPA – imperfect though it may be – was part of that legacy. It affirmed that American companies could compete successfully without resorting to backroom deals.
To suspend enforcement now – particularly amid speculation and with powerful interests potentially positioned to gain – risks undermining decades of credibility. It sends a signal that U.S. rules can be relaxed in the name of expedience, and that ethics may yield to profit.
More than just a betrayal of long-held values, this may prove a harbinger of a broader pattern. The machinery of government is increasingly being repurposed to advance private influence rather than the public good. With executive orders and privatization framed as reform, this administration is opening the door to greater entanglement between state power and personal gain.
I was wrong in 1977. The FCPA wasn’t a handicap – it was a shield. And removing that shield now, even temporarily, makes American companies more vulnerable to corruption, extortion, and reputational harm. It weakens the international rule of law and hands a symbolic victory to those who believe business, like politics, is best conducted behind closed doors.
Over time, the FCPA became one of the most valuable tools American business and diplomacy had at their disposal. It allowed U.S. companies to politely but firmly rebuff bribe solicitations by pointing to federal law. It gave American diplomats leverage to raise concerns in foreign capitals when corruption distorted markets or undermined competition. And above all, it helped American companies build a reputation for integrity – a reputational premium that, in many parts of the world, mattered more than people might imagine.
So, when President Trump announced in February that he was suspending enforcement of the FCPA for six months, I was stunned. His executive order instructed the Department of Justice to halt new investigations and pause existing ones unless deemed vital to national security. It framed anti-bribery enforcement as a barrier to American business, casting the law as a burden rather than an asset. The language hinted at a troubling shift: that international ethical standards might be viewed as negotiable when politically or economically inconvenient.
Public speculation in Washington has raised questions about whether the move could ease the path for certain business ventures, especially those associated with the President or his allies. For example, the Trump Organization is expanding overseas – notably in Vietnam and potentially in the Middle East – regions where real estate and hospitality transactions often involve opaque negotiations. Similarly, a Trump-linked cryptocurrency venture, World Liberty Financial, is seeking sovereign investment in emerging markets where transparency may be limited. These are precisely the types of ventures where FCPA oversight is traditionally relevant.
Some observers have noted that prominent figures in the administration’s orbit could, in theory, benefit from the relaxed enforcement environment. Elon Musk, who heads the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), is leading privatization efforts involving government real estate and restructuring public services. Musk’s companies – Tesla and SpaceX – have extensive operations in countries like China and Saudi Arabia, where navigating complex regulatory environments is part of doing business. While there is no evidence of wrongdoing, the FCPA’s suspension will raise questions.
Peter Thiel, a well-known investor and Trump ally, has deep ties in data infrastructure, biotech, and defense. Thiel-backed companies such as Palantir operate globally, often in highly sensitive government sectors. In such contexts, a less aggressive FCPA stance could reduce legal exposure even without implying any intent to act improperly.
Even Jeff Bezos, historically viewed as a Trump critic, now shares some overlapping policy interests with the administration due to Amazon’s growing role in defense, A.I. infrastructure, and international logistics. The company’s presence in complex markets like India, the Gulf, and parts of Africa could theoretically benefit from reduced compliance burdens – even where no improper conduct occurs.
The FCPA’s temporary suspension has already drawn international concern. In Latin America and Africa, some U.S. diplomats report unease among civil society groups and reform-minded officials who once viewed the U.S. as a standard-bearer for clean commerce. If Washington no longer enforces its own anti-corruption laws, its influence in promoting global accountability may weaken.
Far from being a burden, the FCPA has historically given American companies a competitive edge. When a foreign official demands a payoff, U.S. firms can say: “We can’t. It’s against U.S. law.” That ends the conversation. It saves time, avoids risk, and supports honest entrepreneurs abroad who wish to operate on a level playing field.
There was a time when the United States led by example. The FCPA – imperfect though it may be – was part of that legacy. It affirmed that American companies could compete successfully without resorting to backroom deals.
To suspend enforcement now – particularly amid speculation and with powerful interests potentially positioned to gain – risks undermining decades of credibility. It sends a signal that U.S. rules can be relaxed in the name of expedience, and that ethics may yield to profit.
More than just a betrayal of long-held values, this may prove a harbinger of a broader pattern. The machinery of government is increasingly being repurposed to advance private influence rather than the public good. With executive orders and privatization framed as reform, this administration is opening the door to greater entanglement between state power and personal gain.
I was wrong in 1977. The FCPA wasn’t a handicap – it was a shield. And removing that shield now, even temporarily, makes American companies more vulnerable to corruption, extortion, and reputational harm. It weakens the international rule of law and hands a symbolic victory to those who believe business, like politics, is best conducted behind closed doors.