The news that New York Mayor Eric Adams has been indicted came as a surprise to precisely no one. For one thing, federal authorities first began raiding the homes of people connected to his campaign in November of 2023, amid many, many, many reports about the mayor’s suspiciously frequent luxury travel to Turkey, not to mention rumors of donations from foreign nationals.
For another, the mayor is just a profoundly weird guy, and it really seemed like anything might be possible with him. But now that Adams has officially been federally charged with bribery, wire fraud, conspiracy and soliciting campaign contributions from foreign nationals, one thing does come as a bit of a shock: how deeply, grimly, unfortunately funny some of this is.
The indictment alleges Adams has been accepting “improper value benefits,” from wealthy Turkish nationals and officials connected to the Turkish government for at least a decade, going back to his time as Brooklyn Borough President. Those benefits included luxury hotel stays, upgraded plane tickets, free meals at high-end restaurants, and “luxury entertainment” during his frequent trips to Turkey. It also alleges that he and his mayoral campaign baldly and happily took what a reasonable person would construe as bribes from Turkish nationals, accepting large sums of illegal contributions through straw donors and giving favorable treatment in return, including pressuring the fire department to approve a luxury high-rise which houses the Turkish consulate, ceasing his association with a Turkish community center in Brooklyn that Turkey claimed was hostile to the government, and declining to make a statement on Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day simply because a “Turkish official” asked him not to.
All of that is arguably less funny; perhaps, when you consider the breadth and length of the alleged corruption, not funny at all. But if you can look past the serious allegations, Mayor Adams and his campaign staffers are accused of behaving in ways so breathtakingly buffoonish, so truly, deeply ill-advised, that the whole thing transcends ordinary crime and makes its way to a comedic plane.
For instance: their commitment to putting everything—far more than any competent lawyer would advise—in writing. After Adams began traveling to Turkey in 2015 and getting extremely sweet deals on Turkish Airlines, prosecutors say he went out of his way to instruct his partner to only buy tickets on Turkish Air. Adams, the indictment alleges, “flew the Turkish Airline even when doing so was otherwise inconvenient. For example, during the July and August 2017 trip, Adams’ “Partner was surprised to learn that ADAMS was in Turkey when she had understood him to be flying from New York to France. ADAMS responded, in a text message, ‘Transferring here. You know first stop is always instanbul [sic].’ ” Furthermore, it adds, when Adams’ partner wanted to plan a trip to Easter Island, Adams “repeatedly asked her whether the Turkish Airline could be used for their flights, requiring her to call the Turkish Airline to confirm that they did not have routes between New York and Chile.”
A text message saying the “first stop is always Istanbul,” will surely go down in the lexicon of phrases denoting rank political corruption. But the incredible commitment to putting everything in written words goes much further. Adams and his staffers, the indictment alleges, even typed out discussions about deleting evidence. “To be o[n the] safe side Please Delete all messages you send me,” a staffer texted Adams, who is said to have responded with a chipper, “Always do.”
At the same time they tried to delete their paper trail, Adams and his staffers allegedly created a far dumber one. In 2017, for instance, Adams emailed his scheduler to pay for some free flights he’d already taken on Turkish air. But, the indictment reads, “the emails provided inconsistent explanations: in some, ADAMS suggested that the Adams Scheduler should pay by using ADAMS’s credit card, while in others, ADAMS claimed to have left cash in an envelope for the Adams Scheduler to send to the Turkish Airline.” The indictment also dryly notes that given the value of the tickets, Adams would have put at least $10,000 cash in a desk drawer to send to Turkish airlines for flights he’d already taken months before. “He did not do that,” the indictment helpfully adds, “as records from the Turkish Airline confirm that ADAMS did not pay the airline, in cash or otherwise, because the tickets were complimentary.”
Another grimly hilarious aspect of the indictment is Adams’ surprising willingness to immediately take piles of money, even cash—a fact that was, again, laid out in writing, in perfect clarity. In June of 2018, an Adams staffer and a Turkish entrepreneur—referred to in the document as “the Promoter”—talked about Adams taking another trip. Per the indictment, the Promoter wrote, “Fund Raising in Turkey is not legal, but I think I can raise money for your campaign off the record.” The Adams staffer is said to have responded, “How will [Adams] declare that money here?” The Promoter responded, “He won’t declare it… Or… We’ll make the donation through an American citizen in the U.S….A Turk… I’ll give cash to him in Turkey . .. Or I’ll send it to an American . . . He will make a donation to you.”
Any reasonable person might identify this as, let’s say, a problem. And indeed, the Adams staffer seemed to recognize the red flags, responding, “I think he wouldn’t get involved in such games. They might cause a big stink later on,” but added, “I’ll ask anyways.” The promoter said he could contribut “Max $100k,” to which the staffer replied, “100K? Do you have a chance to transfer that here? … We can’t do it while Eric is in Turkey,” to which the promoter replied, “Let’s think.”
“After this conversation,” the indictment reads, “the Adams Staffer asked ADAMS whether the Adams Staffer should pursue the unlawful foreign contributions offered by the Promoter, and contrary to the Adams Staffer’s expectations, ADAMS directed that the Adams Staffer pursue the Promoter’s illegal scheme.” Later, instructing his staff about another Turkish businessman who was offering to provide illegal contributions, Adams wrote, that the businessman “is ready to help. I don’t want his willing to help be waisted [sic].”
The indictment goes on—and on, and on—like this. At one point, when Turkish university officials were pledging $20,000 in “donations” to Adams’ 2021 mayoral campaign, in return for his attendance at an event, an Adams staffer responded, “if the donation is not more than $25K, then Mr. President does not participate in person.” In another instance, Adams is alleged to have placed Turkish Airlines’ general manager on his transition team, after telling an Adams staffer, “It would suit me well to be lead Or Senior Advisor.” Two days later, he reiterated, writing, “Lead Plz 🙂 Otherwise seat number 52 is empty … On the way back.” As the indictment helpfully explains, that meant “if the Airline Manager was not given a position on a transition committee, it would affect ADAMS’s travel benefits from the Turkish Airline.”
The mordantly funny business continued right up until the feds closed in, when, on November 6, 2023, the FBI executed a search warrant on Adams and seized some of his electronics, including an iPad and a cellphone.
“Although ADAMS was carrying several electronic devices, including two cellphones, he was not carrying his personal cellphone,” the indictment adds, “which is the device he used to communicate about the conduct described in this indictment. When Adams produced the phone the following day, in response to a subpoena, it was locked and password protected.”
“ADAMS claimed that after he learned about the investigation into his conduct, he changed the password…and increased the complexity of his password from four digits to six,” the indictment continues, with a straight face. “ADAMS had done this, he claimed, to prevent members of his staff from inadvertently or intentionally deleting the contents of his phone because, according to ADAMS, he wished to preserve the contents of his phone due to the investigation. But, ADAMS further claimed, he had forgotten the password he had just set, and thus was unable to provide the FBI with a password that would unlock the phone.”
As of Thursday afternoon, Adams was defiant, having released a statement he pre-recorded before the indictment was even unsealed, pledging to fight the charges “with every ounce of my strength and spirit.” As he keeps that promise, unbelievable, almost surreal levels of morbid comedy will likely continue.