Bill Ackman is on a mission, and it's not a quiet one. The activist investor took to social media over the weekend to blast the U.S. Treasury's long-running handling of Fannie Mae (FNMA) and Freddie Mac (FMCC), the two mortgage giants that have been in government conservatorship since the 2008 financial crisis. His central argument is pretty straightforward, if you ignore 16 years of complicated financial and political history: the government got its money back, plus a hefty bonus, but is still acting like it's owed a fortune.
"Now that you have the time, Mr. President, let's Stop the Steal!" Ackman wrote, directing his closing remarks at former President Donald Trump. The "steal," in his view, is a 2012 policy change called the Net Worth Sweep that redirected all of the companies' quarterly profits to the U.S. Treasury. Ackman argues this happened after the firms had returned to profitability and, crucially, after they had already repaid the $193 billion bailout they received.
Let's rewind. Back in 2008, as the housing market collapsed, the government stepped in to rescue Fannie and Freddie. The terms were tough: Treasury bought $193 billion in senior preferred stock, which carried a 10% dividend (or coupon), and also received warrants to buy up to 79.9% of each company's common stock. It was a lifeline, but an expensive one.
Fast forward to today. Ackman says the companies have paid Treasury a total of $301 billion. He breaks that down as a full return of the $193 billion principal, plus interest at a blended rate of 11.6%, and then an extra $25 billion on top of what the original contract required. By his math, the bill has been paid, with interest and then some.
So why is this still a fight? Because of what happened on August 12, 2012. That's when, during President Barack Obama's second term, the Treasury Department amended the deal. It swapped the fixed 10% dividend for the Net Worth Sweep, which entitled the government to all of the companies' profits each quarter. Ackman describes this as a unilateral rewrite, not a negotiated change. The effect, he argues, was an accounting sleight of hand: every dollar sent to Treasury was booked as a dividend payment, not as a repayment of the senior preferred stock principal. So, on the government's books, that $193 billion obligation still sits there, untouched, despite the $301 billion in cash that has flowed the other way.
"The accounting outcome is upside down," Ackman wrote. He points to one quarter where Fannie Mae earned $59 billion and, under the sweep, sent a $59 billion dividend to Treasury. The entire profit, gone. He even mentioned discussing the situation with Warren Buffett about a decade ago, quoting the Oracle of Omaha as saying he "couldn't believe what the government had done."
The Shareholder Ask: Not a Handout, But the Original Deal
Ackman is keen to frame this not as a plea for charity but as a demand for contract enforcement. Shareholders, he says, are "not seeking a 'gift' from Washington" but are asking the government to honor the 2008 senior preferred stock agreement and properly account for the payments. He contrasts the treatment of Fannie and Freddie with the 2008 bank rescues, where institutions like Goldman Sachs received Treasury investments that came with a 5% coupon and warrants for 15% of the face value. The terms for the mortgage firms, he argues, were harsher and have been made more so by the sweep.
His proposal is simple in concept: the Treasury should credit the payments made against the senior preferred stock balance, effectively wiping that $193 billion liability off the books. The government could keep the extra $25 billion, in his view, or return it; the main thing is to settle the original debt. He warns that the precedent set here is dangerous for the financial system. If conservatorship allows the government to reorder financial claims with "the stroke of a pen," why would any private investor provide rescue capital to a troubled institution in the future? He links this concern to recent bank failures, like Silicon Valley Bank, suggesting the Fannie and Freddie experience makes private capital more skittish.
A Blueprint for Freedom and a Big Payday
Alongside the critique, Ackman has been promoting a "walk before you run" plan to end the 18-year conservatorship. It starts with relisting the companies' shares (they currently trade over-the-counter). Then, over a multi-year window, regulators and the companies would work to establish permanent capital rules and a leadership structure. Finally, a fuller privatization could occur. This gradual approach, he argues, could stabilize the housing finance system.
The potential upside, according to Ackman's projections, is massive. He has framed a clean exit as a large payoff for the government itself. If the companies traded like normal financial firms again, he values Fannie Mae at 16 times estimated 2026 earnings and Freddie Mac at 13 times, implying 300% to 400% upside for the shares from recent levels. He's criticized alternative ideas that would convert the government's senior preferred stake into junior preferred and common equity, arguing that would dilute other shareholders into oblivion and give the government a stake of roughly 95%. A smaller stake in a trusted, publicly-traded company, he contends, could be worth more to taxpayers than a giant stake in a diluted, unattractive investment.
Ackman closed his argument by invoking a November 2021 letter from Donald Trump to Senator Rand Paul, in which the former president labeled the sweep "theft" and called the episode "a travesty." Hence the rallying cry: "Now that you have the time, Mr. President, let's Stop the Steal!"
It's a high-stakes financial and political argument, wrapped in the legacy of the 2008 crisis. Ackman's case boils down to a question of fairness and contract law: if you borrow money, pay it back with generous interest, and then keep paying, when does the debt finally get marked "paid in full"? For Fannie and Freddie shareholders, the wait continues.
