Sensational crimes committed by envoys while abroad are rare – but why should diplomats have all the benefits?

A heinous crime is committed, witnesses and evidence abounds. As soon as the cuffs come out, the villain flashes his embassy ID and utters two words: “Diplomatic immunity.” Realizing their suspect can’t be arrested, the cops can only grimace. Justice is mocked and the diplomat walks.

This familiar scenario has been a Hollywood staple for decades. IMDb lists 50 titles on its Most Popular Diplomatic Immunity Movie and TV Shows page, from Lethal Weapon 2 (1989) to NCIS: New Orleans (2018).

Recent headlines, though, are a stark reminder that diplomatic immunity is more than just a hack plot device: A Teen’s Death Has Put Diplomatic Immunity Under a Spotlight (Time), British Fury as an American Cites Diplomatic Immunity (the Economist). Don’t Abuse Diplomatic Immunity (Toledo Blade). That’s how the media covered the story of Harry Dunn, a British teenager who died in August after his motorcycle was struck by a Volvo SUV traveling on the wrong side of the road in Northamptonshire, England.

The driver, Anne Sacoolas, claimed diplomatic immunity and fled the UK on a private jet. The UK foreign secretary later admitted in the House of Commons that local police had no authority to detain Sacoolas. Public outrage and op-ed vitriol ensued.

As the wife of a US intelligence agent who was working in Northamptonshire at the time of the accident, Sacoolas was immune to prosecution. As stated in the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations, foreign envoys like Jonathan Sacoolas “shall not be liable to any form of arrest and detention”. The envoy’s family members are also protected from all criminal and civil prosecution while they are in-country.

Negotiations between American and British officials are ongoing. Dunn’s parents want Sacoolas extradited to the UK to “face justice”. The US state department could waive Sacoolas’ immunity, exposing her to legal jeopardy, but that’s unlikely. Diplomatic immunity is rarely waived, especially by powerful countries that wield political clout.

'We were not impressed’: Harry Dunn’s parents on their bizarre day with Trump Read more

Not all diplomatic crimes become international scandals. In 2017, through an Access to Information Request, Canadian journalists uncovered over a year’s worth of classified government reports that chronicle the exploits of foreign diplomats – and their family members – breaking the law with impunity in the Great White North.

The transgressions range from minor offenses (speeding tickets) to major felonies (potential human trafficking in at least one diplomatic residence). In between are an array of alleged violations: assault causing bodily harm, robbery with a weapon, a diplomat’s child accused of theft and assaulting an officer, an unnamed embassy that owed over $200,000 in back property taxes, and a diplomat who attempted to export two new vehicles without paying for them. No arrests were ever made.

Having served at embassies in Warsaw, Poland and Juba, South Sudan, as well as the US missions to Somalia, former envoy Elizabeth Shackelford knows all about diplomatic immunity. She emphasizes that sensational crimes committed while stationed abroad are extremely rare. “The people hired at the state department are type-A personalities,” she explains. “Culturally, we’re strait-laced people who follow rules – I never saw anybody abusing their privileges.”

She does admit that some countries have worse diplomatic reputations than others, but declines to name names. “It’s a very small but particularly offensive segment of the community. It’s unfortunate, but there are a few weirdos serving as diplomats.”

Pressed for details, Shackelford shares some embassy gossip that doesn’t violate her non-disclosure agreement: “You do hear things, like somebody getting diplomatic passports for 50 of their family members and relatives so they can go to New York and behave badly. The Nigerians are notorious for that.”

Michael Bachner, a defense attorney who specializes in international crime cases, agrees that diplomat felonies aren’t as common as screenwriters would have us believe. “Most diplomats are good people who obey the laws,” he says. “The occasional immunity crimes you hear about are outliers.”

But before hanging up, he drops the sober courtroom tone and offers some free legal advice: “I’m always cognizant when I’m around diplomats. If I see a car on the highway with diplomatic plates, I give the driver a lot of room. Because there’s a chance this guy could be a jerk and run me off the road, and nothing will happen to him.”

But why should diplomats have all the benefits? For a fee in the low to mid six-figures, anyone can purchase a diplomatic passport. The sellers are corrupt government officials in small island nations (Malta and Cyprus are popular) Asian countries (Thai prime minister Yingluck Shinawatra used a Cambodian diplomatic passport to register as a company director in Hong Kong) and African dictatorships (throw a dart at the map). Known as “paper citizenship” and “citizenship by investment”, these fancy letters of transit are as much a status symbol for high net worth individuals as a new Gulfstream or a palazzo on Lake Como.

A consulting company specializing in securing foreign passports for the wealthy touts the privileges conferred by pay-to-play ambassadorship on its website. This includes diplomatic license plates, “visa-free travel” and “sovereign inviolable status” for homes. The thing that can seal the deal is diplomatic pouches. These locked containers, which range in size from a backpack to a shipping container, bear the official seal of a sovereign country; by law this property isn’t subject to inspection or seizure at border crossings.

“You certainly can purchase a diplomatic passport as long as you have the right access and the willingness to pay for it,” says Fred Burton, the chief security officer at Stratfor and a former agent of the US state department. “But these transactions are an abusive and fraudulent use of government bureaucracy.” Andrew Henderson, the founder of Nomad Capitalist, a company that peddles “offshore tax and lifestyle strategies”, embraces the contrarian opinion: “People hate the rich. They find vulgarity in these individuals acquiring foreign citizenship. They think government employees and campaign contributors, who have no global perspective, should be the only ambassadors. That’s nonsense.”

• This article was amended on 4 December 2019 to make it clear that diplomatic immunity is not necessarily enjoyed by a purchaser of a diplomatic passport.