FBI in Crisis: Big Arrests Mask Bitter Infighting Under Trump

Paul Riverbank, 12/2/2025FBI touts major busts, but internal strife and leadership rifts threaten unity and morale.

But that’s just the story being told at the podium. Inside FBI headquarters, the atmosphere is anything but celebratory. Staff describe a place uneasy with itself, grumbling over leadership missteps and an internal culture in flux.

Take, for instance, the fall of Kevin Luke—a name once spoken with respect in Army circles. His story is almost a parable: a decorated colonel, now a convicted criminal after emailing classified military info to someone he reportedly met online. Not a foreign agent or a blackmailer; just, as one exasperated commentator put it, “a woman he met online”—the kind of detail that stings more for its absurdity than its treachery. Luke admits guilt. Now he faces up to a decade in federal custody, his legacy reduced to a cautionary footnote for anyone tempted to rationalize away the boundaries of classified information.

Then there’s the curious matter of Yunqing Jian—a Chinese national intercepted at a U.S. airport while carrying what law enforcement ominously described as a “dangerous biological pathogen.” The specifics remain concealed, but the nervous energy around the case lingers. Jian was deported with haste; federal spokespeople defaulted to practiced reassurances, yet even the most measured observer will admit: the idea of illicit biological agents making their way through civilian transit points is enough to fray any sense of security.

The plot thickens in Los Angeles, where someone named Chenguang Gong—who carried passports from both the U.S. and China—tried to pass blueprints for advanced missile systems off the grid. Not an isolated event, either; his is just the latest entry in a growing list of technology thefts around American aerospace and defense firms, often linked to actors tied to Beijing. For his part, Gong faces nearly four years in prison. The FBI’s official statement put it bluntly: “Let this serve as a warning…”

Meanwhile in London, the Bureau’s reach stretched across the Atlantic. Nathan Gill, a familiar face from the chambers of the European Parliament, found himself undone by greed. He wasn’t just whispering in back rooms; he was taking explicit cash payments from individuals connected to the Russian state and using his influence to further their agenda. This time, the reference to “Russian collusion” isn’t fodder for cable news panels. Gill awaits a sentence that could keep him behind bars for more than a decade—a practical lesson in just how global counterintelligence has become.

Given cases like these, it would be easy to declare the FBI a fortress. Yet, evidence within the organization suggests a more fragile reality. A lengthy internal memo, which recently leaked, reflects a staff wracked by discontent. Some compare the leadership’s communication style to “tweeting from the clouds”; others lament learning more about ongoing operations from Twitter than from their own chain of command. Anonymous sources are candid, if not a bit brutal: phrases like “all f--ked up” and “rudderless ship” get tossed around with regularity, and doubts about Director Patel’s capacity for the job are voiced openly. Deputy Bongino fares no better—at least one insider called him “a clown,” a descriptor that would seem silly if the agency’s mission weren’t so serious.

Much of the tension seems political, or perhaps just compounded by politics. Some staffers complain, in classic Beltway fashion, that “Trump Derangement Syndrome” lingers in the Bureau’s halls, clouding judgment and eroding skepticism. Others grouse about a hiring shift that favors educators over veteran law enforcement officers—a subtle but telling change in the culture and skillsets prioritized. There’s also frustration over clemency moves handed down by the White House, viewed as undercutting efforts on the ground.

Yet, despite the noise, President Trump has signaled unwavering support for the current leadership, waving off criticism as little more than “background static.” Bongino’s retort to skeptics is clipped and pragmatic: “Judge the results. I work for you, not the front page.”

Still, inside the Bureau, unease is tangible. Employees talk about transparency the way people talk about water during a drought—necessary, but all too rare. The refrain is clear: without a painful reckoning with the agency’s internal problems, true unity will remain out of reach. Some welcome recent reductions in diversity and inclusion programming, considering it overdue. But for every note of satisfaction, there are plenty more calls for professionalism and silence—a plea for leaders to “stop posting and just be professional.”

So the public sees an institution flush with victories: traitors exposed, threats neutralized, security projects defended. Behind the scenes, though, the FBI remains a divided house, wrestling with internal wounds and searching for a way back to the cohesion that used to define it.

The FBI has spent the past several weeks in the headlines, and none of it subtle. After a quick succession of four high-profile arrests—espionage, smuggling, outright treason and even a touch of biological intrigue—federal officials have been eager to showcase results. It’s hard to ignore the triumphant tone emanating from Director Neel Patel and his deputy, Dan Bongino, both of whom have leaned into press briefings and social media to amplify the message: the Bureau’s watching, and missteps will not go unnoticed.But that’s just the story being told at the podium. Inside FBI headquarters, the atmosphere is anything but celebratory. Staff describe a place uneasy with itself, grumbling over leadership missteps and an internal culture in flux.Take, for instance, the fall of Kevin Luke—a name once spoken with respect in Army circles. His story is almost a parable: a decorated colonel, now a convicted criminal after emailing classified military info to someone he reportedly met online. Not a foreign agent or a blackmailer; just, as one exasperated commentator put it, “a woman he met online”—the kind of detail that stings more for its absurdity than its treachery. Luke admits guilt. Now he faces up to a decade in federal custody, his legacy reduced to a cautionary footnote for anyone tempted to rationalize away the boundaries of classified information.Then there’s the curious matter of Yunqing Jian—a Chinese national intercepted at a U.S. airport while carrying what law enforcement ominously described as a “dangerous biological pathogen.” The specifics remain concealed, but the nervous energy around the case lingers. Jian was deported with haste; federal spokespeople defaulted to practiced reassurances, yet even the most measured observer will admit: the idea of illicit biological agents making their way through civilian transit points is enough to fray any sense of security.The plot thickens in Los Angeles, where someone named Chenguang Gong—who carried passports from both the U.S. and China—tried to pass blueprints for advanced missile systems off the grid. Not an isolated event, either; his is just the latest entry in a growing list of technology thefts around American aerospace and defense firms, often linked to actors tied to Beijing. For his part, Gong faces nearly four years in prison. The FBI’s official statement put it bluntly: “Let this serve as a warning…”Meanwhile in London, the Bureau’s reach stretched across the Atlantic. Nathan Gill, a familiar face from the chambers of the European Parliament, found himself undone by greed. He wasn’t just whispering in back rooms; he was taking explicit cash payments from individuals connected to the Russian state and using his influence to further their agenda. This time, the reference to “Russian collusion” isn’t fodder for cable news panels. Gill awaits a sentence that could keep him behind bars for more than a decade—a practical lesson in just how global counterintelligence has become.Given cases like these, it would be easy to declare the FBI a fortress. Yet, evidence within the organization suggests a more fragile reality. A lengthy internal memo, which recently leaked, reflects a staff wracked by discontent. Some compare the leadership’s communication style to “tweeting from the clouds”; others lament learning more about ongoing operations from Twitter than from their own chain of command. Anonymous sources are candid, if not a bit brutal: phrases like “all f--ked up” and “rudderless ship” get tossed around with regularity, and doubts about Director Patel’s capacity for the job are voiced openly. Deputy Bongino fares no better—at least one insider called him “a clown,” a descriptor that would seem silly if the agency’s mission weren’t so serious.Much of the tension seems political, or perhaps just compounded by politics. Some staffers complain, in classic Beltway fashion, that “Trump Derangement Syndrome” lingers in the Bureau’s halls, clouding judgment and eroding skepticism. Others grouse about a hiring shift that favors educators over veteran law enforcement officers—a subtle but telling change in the culture and skillsets prioritized. There’s also frustration over clemency moves handed down by the White House, viewed as undercutting efforts on the ground.Yet, despite the noise, President Trump has signaled unwavering support for the current leadership, waving off criticism as little more than “background static.” Bongino’s retort to skeptics is clipped and pragmatic: “Judge the results. I work for you, not the front page.”Still, inside the Bureau, unease is tangible. Employees talk about transparency the way people talk about water during a drought—necessary, but all too rare. The refrain is clear: without a painful reckoning with the agency’s internal problems, true unity will remain out of reach. Some welcome recent reductions in diversity and inclusion programming, considering it overdue. But for every note of satisfaction, there are plenty more calls for professionalism and silence—a plea for leaders to “stop posting and just be professional.”So the public sees an institution flush with victories: traitors exposed, threats neutralized, security projects defended. Behind the scenes, though, the FBI remains a divided house, wrestling with internal wounds and searching for a way back to the cohesion that used to define it.