I first learned about Claudio Osorio in 2005. He was a high-flying Venezuelan entrepreneur in Miami, throwing money around indiscriminately: Gloria Estefan, Bill Clinton, Jeb Bush, Debbie Wasserman-Schultz, and even the Obamas showed up at his door seeking cash. Cash for political campaigns, cash for foundations, cash for fun. Osorio, a businessman with a troubled past involving fraudulent investors in Switzerland, was more than happy to oblige. His wife became a “philanthropist” known for inviting her circle of “ladies who lunch” to endless spending sprees. The Democratic Party collected contributions from him, and Donna Brazile brought him to the White House, where they even attended Obama’s Christmas party together. But the money they were spending was OPM. Other People’s Money. Everything was stolen. Right down to the last dollar. Osorio was accused of corruption by his investors, yet he didn’t care. Proximity to power, a grand mansion, and a flock of sycophants can make some feel untouchable and completely immune to their behavior. Photos of Osorio with Bill Clinton were everywhere. The Osorios even held a political fundraiser for Hillary Clinton‘s presidential bid. Then one sunny morning, men with badges and guns knocked on the massive wooden door of his Star Island mansion, and in an instant, Osorio was brought back to a reality that fit his situation better. Now, he is a convicted criminal and will be sentenced on September 18, 2013, facing up to 20 years in federal prison for defrauding his neighbors and friends of $40 million. To his embarrassment, the fraud case’s administrator has asked many who received part of the ill-gotten money to return it. To their credit, people like Jeb Bush and Emilio Estefan hurriedly wrote checks.
In the early 1990s, another Venezuelan, Orlando Castro, was also throwing around money (and, like Osorio, funneled cash into the Democratic Party’s coffers). Photos of Castro with Clinton were plastered all over the media in Venezuela at a time when Castro was scamming tens of millions from the financial sector. Castro was “inpadrinado,” as we say at home: godfathered. The message was “look at me, I’m untouchable.” Six years after those photos, Castro was sitting in a state prison in New York for fraud.
Recently, several American politicians were photographed with David Osio of Davos Financial, a laundry service for corrupt Venezuelan money with offices in New York and Miami. Similarly, prominent Republican Al Cárdenas has lined his pockets by associating with some of the seediest “entrepreneurs” from Venezuela looking to enter the U.S. playing field. When will politicians learn the value of due diligence? More importantly, when will my compatriots understand: don’t bring your criminal paths to the U.S.? The obvious question is: who’s next?