October 28, 1998

A Putz for Money

Once upon a time Alfonse D'Amato was the most vulnerable member of the U.S. Senate. As he ran the Senate's Whitewater investigation and squeaked endlessly about "troubling questions" posed by the long-ago land deal, his poll numbers plummeted. He became the Senator with the highest negative ratings -- quite an accomplishment. But he's no fool. He quickly shelved his Whitewater obsession and switched channels: he fought for Holocaust victims screwed by Swiss banks, he supported the nomination of the openly gay James Hormel to be US Ambassador to Luxembourg, and he championed pro-patient rules for women with breast cancer. Jews, gays and women -- he practically morphed into Barbra Streisand.

It's amazing he didn't thrown himself into traction, with all that bending over backward to appeal to natural Democratic constituencies. One friend of mine overheard D'Amato a few months ago saying he would vote for any liberal piece of legislation he had to in order to deny his Democratic challenger an issue. What principle.

But in one regard, D'Amato hasn't changed. He still has a taste for special interest campaign contributions and he keeps taking legislative actions that benefit the balance sheets of his backers. Look at his donors, look at his conduct in the Senate; only a sucker would believe the former does not influence the latter.

D'Amato has been one of the more prominent beneficiaries of the soft money con. In this scam, corporations, millionaires, and unions slip gobs of money (often in the $100,000 range) to political parties for what's called "party- building" activities. These bucks are not supposed to flow directly into the campaign chests of individual candidates, for that would undermine the tight limitations on what a person or political action committee can give to a politician. (Under "hard money" rules, an individual is allowed to contribute $1000 per election to a candidate.) But, in the real world, soft money is funneled into mechanisms -- such as ads and voter registration efforts -- designed to assist specific candidates. By exploiting this planet- sized loophole, both parties have rendered campaign finance laws essentially meaningless. Those with heaps of money are not restricted by the hard money limits; instead they write larger checks to soft-money accounts. And D'Amato has been one of the GOP's key soft-money bag men.

As chairman of the National Republican Senatorial Committee in the last election cycle, D'Amato collected $29 million. As a leader of the state Republican Party, he helped it pocket $3.6 million in soft money in the first half of this year.

Any sentient citizen would have to wonder how all this money-chasing has colored his votes. Here are three instances that justify that wonder.

-- Last year, D'Amato, using his position on the Finance Committee, pushed through a measure that provided a mega tax break to 27 companies, most notably Alliance Capital Management, which manages more $260 billion in assets. Under the provision, publicly traded partnerships like Alliance Capital are treated more favorably than limited partnerships or corporations. The gain to Alliance Capital (and the loss to taxpayers): about $70 million a year. Why treat such these businesses differently? It's hard to see the social good in that. But between 1995 and 1998, Alliance Capital and its parent donated $105,000 in soft money to the GOP. The parent company and its executives have given $94,000 to D'Amato's current campaign. Coincidence? Congruence? Cause-and- effect? That's just it: how's a voter to know?

-- As chairman of the Banking Committee, D'Amato has promoted legislation to change the law so credit card companies could pay "affinity groups" (such as professional associations that offer credit cards to their members) for referrals for real estate settlement services. The measure sounds esoteric, but let's put it in plain talk: kickbacks. The legislation was sought by MBNA America, a commercial credit card company. The Consumer Federation of America assailed this move because it would increase the cost of settlement services for homebuyers and because it creates a situation in which consumers can too easily be misled into believing the referral they receive is an endorsement and not the result of a financial arrangement between the affinity group and the credit card company. Why make life harder for a homebuyer? MBNA and its honchos gave $127,500 in soft money to D'Amato's National Republican Senatorial Committee in the last election. In this election cycle, the company has given $125,000 in soft money to the New York State Republican Party. And -- what a surprise -- it is the largest hard-money donor to D'Amato's campaign, kicking in $235,000.

-- D'Amato has been in the forefront of the crusade to pass legislation that would eliminate the barriers that exist between banks, securities firms, insurance companies and other businesses. Why should anyone who doesn't work on Wall Street fret about this? A coalition of consumer groups offered reasons for concern: "A few examples -- your recently widowed aunt is the beneficiary of a large insurance policy. Within days of her husband's death, she is harassed over the phone by stockbroker affiliated with the insurance company pushing her to invest in funds with huge amounts of unsuitable high-risk derivative instruments. Or, your cousin who suffers from a terminal illness has dreamed of owning his own home and applies for a loan at a bank. The bank's health insurance affiliate shares information about the terminal illness with the loan officer without anyone's knowledge, denying your cousin his dream of home ownership." Even Business Week in June wrote of an "Orwellian scenario" made possible by this proposed legislation: you're diagnosed with a serious disease, and your credit-card company, which is affiliated with your insurance company, learns of this horrible news and reacts predictably: it slashes your credit card limit.

When Democratic Senators on D'Amato's committee tried to amend the bill so financial institutions would have to inform their customers about how information might be shared within a conglomerate, D'Amato and his Republican comrades voted it down. D'Amato may squawk about the buck-fifty ATM charges, but on the big deals he's on the side of the Wall Streeters. And you guessed it -- the GOP has banked over $13 million this election cycle in soft money from the insurance, securities, and banking industries. The financial industry has also dumped over $2.8 million into D'Amato's current campaign.

D'Amato's coziness with corporate contributors or his accomplished exploitation of an institutionally corrupt campaign system has not been much of an issue. After all, Schumer has accepted millions from the same crowd. Instead, the two campaigns exchange bursts of bile. D'Amato calls Schumer a liberal. Schumer dubs D'Amato a liar. Then after D'Amato refers to Schumer as a "putzhead" and Schumer declares his outrage, CNN airs a segment where Ed Koch (D'Amato supporter) and Representative Jerrold Nadler (Schumer fan) argue whether "putz" is a more derogatory term than "schmuck." Good television, but pathetic political discourse. That's probably just fine by D'Amato's contributors -- and Schumer's. They don't want debates on tax breaks and conglomerization.

Real and important differences do exist between D'Amato and Schumer. D'Amato is worth voting against because he's in bed with the National Rifle Association and a consistent foe of abortion rights. (On these positions, he is dug in too deep to shift.) But when it comes to big-money politics, neither D'Amato nor Schumer is a pisher.

A Loose Hoosier

The news cycles come and go so quickly these days. Think back to those distant days when the world first learned that Representative Dan Burton, one of the most enthusiastic pursuers of Clinton, had fathered a child out of wedlock. That embarrassment was only eight weeks ago. Seems like years, the way the 24-hours-a-day media industry churns out copy, commentary, images, soundbites, headlines, and all the rest. Well, if you give a darn about the off-kilter Burton, who has chaired the all-loose-ends House inquiry into improper Clinton fundraising, there's more good dish to be had.

In a recent report on Burton's reelection campaign, his hometown paper, the Indianapolis Star/News buried a few interesting facts about Burton's campaign manager, Claudia Keller. In addition to directing the campaign, the paper noted, she maintains a part-time, two-days-a-week position on Burton's congressional staff. That's a highly unusual arrangement. (It's against the law for congressional staff to work for campaigns while they're on the clock as federal employees. The custom is to take a leave of absence to work on a campaign.) At first, Burton aides were reluctant to discuss Keller, a former television "spokesmodel" with the newspapers' reporters, and she refused to talk. Burton's office would not even say where his campaign headquarters was based. Eventually, it acknowledged that the campaign was located in Keller's home and that she has received rent for that. More curiously, Burton's representatives would not say what Keller did as a member of his congressional staff.

After a few weeks of inquiries, Burton's people relented and shared what the paper said was "a small sampling of notes that she had written and letters she had typed for the congressman during her eight years with the office." Yet former employers of Burton's office told the reporters that they had no knowledge of any work Keller had done for the congressional office; they were only familiar with her campaign activities. The paper disclosed that since 1990, Keller has collected almost half a million dollars from Burton's campaign and office payrolls.

It's not hard to make a cynical guess about what really was going on. Sounds like a no-show job, and those are against the law. Where's the House ethics committee? There's been no peep out of it. (Dirty minds can even envision more.) Remember, this is the guy who called Clinton a "scumbag" and whose convoluted probe into Clinton's campaign fundraising -- a subject worthy of serious inquiry -- has produced more speculative conspiracies than hard facts. Burton couldn't find elephant dung at a circus. The article suggests he should be on the receiving end -- not the overseeing end -- of a congressional investigation

The Fugitive(s)

A few days after Augusto Pinochet, the butcher of Chile, was arrested in London at the request of a brave Spanish judge, my colleague Marc Cooper forwarded a note he had received from the grandson of Salvador Allende, the democratically elected socialist president overthrown by Pinochet's bloody coup in 1973. "On the walls of my university in Chile," Andres Sepulveda wrote, "there was an old graffiti: 'Long life to the dictator, so he can watch our victory.' We are getting there, I hope so." Indeed. Pinochet, whose murderous coup followed several years of U.S.-backed skullduggery against Allende, is not yet in the dock for his tyranny and killings. But the preliminary effort to hold Pinochet accountable for destroying democracy and murdering and torturing thousands -- including some Spanish citizens -- is heartening. If only the U.S. officials who let loose the CIA on Allende and who, thus, helped set the stage for Pinochet's junta were also under the gun. Imagine Henry Kissinger curtailing his globetrotting out of fear he'd be picked up and held for extradition. Such pure justice does not exist in this world.

The Real Scandal(s)

It's true. Sex makes the brain go soft. Nation of Islam strongman Louis Farrakhan says Monicagate was orchestrated by Zionists. Why? Because Clinton was pressuring Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu to yield in the Middle East peace process. "I think we need to look deeper into this than just what appears on the surface," Farrakhan said on Meet the Press. But, wait, there may be more, much more. William Lind of the rightwing Free Congress Foundation has uncovered a more elaborate conspiracy. "A good con man," Lind says, "knows that one way to cover a big swindle is with a small one. He allows the small swindle to be found out, and while everyone is in a tizzy about it, he quietly pulls off the big one....At the moment, the small swindle is the Lewinsky Affair and the supposed impeachment investigation. Nothing will come of it, but it keeps the rubes transfixed while the big swindle is worked. And what is that? It's nothing less than setting aside the First Amendment and making any thought or expression that contradicts Political Correctness illegal. That's right: if you think races are different, or the sexes are different, or homosexuality is wrong, and you say so, you're going to be on your way to jail." So Monicagate was concocted as a distraction so the politically correct set can institute a repressive regime, with hate-crime legislation as the first step. I'll buy that. Just tell me where Ken Starr fits in.

It's A Bet

Shortly after the proprietor of New York Press generously offered me a starting position in the columnist line-up this past spring, I discovered that, despite his respect for law and order, he was taking action, at a Ben Franklin a pop, on the proposition that Supreme Commander Clinton would be dispatched back to his dogpatch prior to the constitutionally-mandated date of January 20, 2001. In the middle of that long second act of Monica-madness, Mr. Smith, ever an optimist, was wagering on the affirmative.

For a multitude of reasons, I believed our schadenfreude-seeking publisher/owner was peering into cracked crystal. Bill the First is a great survivor. He convincingly plays the part of the drowning man who keeps himself above water by pushing on -- and thus submerging -- those trying to rescue him. (Albert Gore, forewarned is forearmed.) Then there was the difficulty of believing that a pack led by Newt Gingrich and Ken Starr -- a duo hardly trusted throughout the realm -- could actually outfox the fox. Presicide is hard to pull off without some public support. And the get-Clinton crusaders have been inept in appealing to few beyond those who chuckle when they spot the bumper sticker, "Where's Lee Harvey Oswald when you need him?" (I exaggerate not; such fare is sold at conservative confabs.) My conclusion, then and now: we, like Hillary, are stuck with the guy. Don't even bother asking if it's a healthy relationship. Consequently, in the hope of producing a dramatic gesture that would capture mucho attention and cast me as a daring, gutsy fellow, I offered to take Mugger's wager -- but for a cool grand. No kid's stuff, here.

I waited, and waited, and waited. I was spurned. Even an in-print jab at his reticence failed to stir the Master of the Press. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into more months. Then last week, in an e-mail note, the Man asked me if I cared to go head-to-head with him in predicting the composition of the 106th Congress, twenty-five dollars a chamber. Ahem, I replied. What about the dangling wager of the spring? With little hesitation, the boss responded: "I was a gentleman not to take your wager in August when things were looking bad [for Clinton]....Why not be daring? Let's do it."

So now that Monica's heartthrob has confessed (in his typical yes-but fashion) and the House of Representatives has let loose the hounds of impeachment, Mr. Mugger has kindly deigned to accept my escalation. Good for him. I'm in. But a few ground rules: we're talking resignation or impeachment. No acts of God or assassinations (Hillary in the parlor with the lead pipe?) or medical maladies. Clinton is going out with a slow whimper, and it's going to be painful to watch. At least I'll have a cash bonus waiting for me at the ugly end.