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I wrote this and posted it as its own thread earlier today--don't even know if anybody read it, but it is relevant here.
From John Wilkes and Robespierre, to Tom DeLay and William Jefferson (skipping a few steps)
If I correctly recall undergraduate history, then one thing that professors persistently keep trying to get through to the students is that it is necessary to understand the historical context in which things happen before we can begin to judge the actors of a particular historical era.
I recall discussion of one three quarter History of Western Civilization sequence (actually another section rather than the one I was in) where, relatively early in the first quarter, the students were presented with the actions of Solon, and then relatively late in the third quarter with to the actions of Mussolini.
Then, on the third quarter final examination the actions of Solon and Mussolini alike were described in a few straightforward factual sentences, and the students were asked to differentiate the actions of the two. The descriptions made the actions look very nearly identical, although, of course, the actions selected for the description were carefully chosen.
The fundamental underlying difference was that historical context in which Solon and Mussolini acted were so different that comparison of the superficially similar actions was essentially meaningless. It was one thing to use harsh and-—by modern day standards—-autocratic means to bring order to a small corner of the world where, by coincidence, a democracy (which in retrospect attained great historical significance) was desperately trying to establish itself. It was something else entirely to use similar tactics to bring a kind of order to twentieth century Italy at the cost of many of the better points of the civilization that had developed over millennia.
So, let us focus a bit more narrowly on the subject of political corruption.
John Wilkes is one of the most important, if these days little known, of politicians who stood strongly for liberty in the face of an autocratic monarchy in England at the time of the American Revolution. This same John Wilkes was, by any standard, a very corrupt politician. He was a rake. He used much of the fortune that he had obtained through marriage for a long career of drinking, gambling, whoring, and election briberies. Yet he was one of the few Members of Parliament who had the courage, and whatever else it took to stand up to the monarchy of George III, and he did so in the name of liberty, and he was repeatedly returned to Parliament from his district of Westminster, in the face of charges, and even convictions.
Law, including American law on such points as general warrants, reasonable search and seizure, the right of a jury in a criminal libel case to determine not only the fact of publication but also whether the material published was libelous, the scope of Parliamentary immunity, whether a Member of Parliament had the right to publish the proceedings of Parliament, whether the electors could return a convict to Parliament, whether a person who had been wronged by the actions of the agents of the King could sue the agents and collect punitive damages for the invasion of his liberty, and other important points owes much of its development to the trials of John Wilkes. Wilkes' trials became a symbol of liberty on both sides of the Atlantic. (Among other things, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania is named partly for him—-as was, of course, John Wilkes Booth.)
What is important for us, in our immediate discussion of liberty and political corruption to take from John Wilkes? Well, for starters, we should recognize that certain types of political corruption are not inconsistent with the development of liberty, or of commerce either. If one reflects on the fact that originally the members of Parliament were not paid, but were simply expected to look after their own interests to the extent necessary to compensate them for their troubles, then that conclusion is inescapable. John Wilkes provides one concrete example well worth remembering.
As a counter-point, let us briefly compare Robespierre and the Committee for Public Safety. In their day, when radical republican meant something entirely different than it does now, hypocrisy and corruption became capital offenses. A short and unfair synopsis of the result would be that everyone, including certainly Robespierre, who was an advocate of the principle, became himself guilty, and paid the price. This was a man who-—presumably—-believed in liberty, but the very insistence on the complete absence of corruption became one of the factors in the destruction of liberty, and the establishment of a tyranny.
OK, let us now compare corruption in our own time, using Tom DeLay and William Jefferson as examples. DeLay’s actions and alleged crimes strike at the heart of a free republic. They constitute a type of institutional corruption of government. The phrase “culture of corruption” aptly describes standard operating procedure in a Washington environment where lobbying has become a larger industry than ever before, where many laws are written by lobbyists, and where established rules of procedure are strictly followed or waived at the determination of the majority leader to suit his agenda. The essential attributes of liberty, and checks on tyrannical government have been routinely belittled along with the reputations of any who dared to speak of the importance of such principles, or even to simply speak the truth.
Compare William Jefferson--no doubt a corrupt politician. He is apparently one naive enough to get caught on tape accepting a cash bribe instead of going through the money laundering processes that the DeLay organization has used to hide its actions from the public eye and legal process. Is there not something touching in the relative innocence of someone naive enough to take a cash bribe?
What’s really going on? Why Jefferson? If this was a sting operation then why was he selected? It does not appear that he has the measure of power that would inspire or provoke a Whitewater type witch hunt such as that that came down upon William Jefferson Clinton. Was he simply considered an easy mark where corruption could rather easily be established so as to raise a counterpoint to the Democratic claims of a Republican “culture of corruption”? If so, to some extent, it seems to be working.
William Jefferson tells us there are two sides to every story. Legally, William Jefferson has every right to hold his tongue to insist he he his side to tell when the time come, and to maintain his innocence until proven guilty. Legally this can not be held against him. Politically too, he has the right to hold his tongue, and to refuse to resign until proven guilty. Politically however, the polity has every right to hold the evidence presented, and his silence in the face of it against him--or against Democrats generally. Particularly against any Democrats who speak up for him politically in the face of the evidence, and in the face of his silence before the evidence.
There is historically, as the history of John Wilkes illustrates, political justification or at least excuse for some corruption. Furthermore, as perhaps the black caucus is more aware than most, an individual has the right, after conviction to be re-elected if he persuades the voters of his district to re-elect him anyway. The case law on this point goes back to the John Wilkes discussed above, and the history of John Wilkes is discussed extensively in the United States Supreme Court case where the Court took on a similar case—that of Adam Clayton Powell, Jr.
Politically, however, the cost of Mr. Jefferson’s silence is already high, and rising. Politically, Democrats appear justified in asking for his resignation, particularly if they really are trying to set a higher standard for themselves than that current among Republicans. Mr. Jefferson remains correct that there is another side to the story. Mr. Jefferson is in a dilemma. What may be wisest legally may be what is worst politically, namely asserting that he has a side of the story worth telling while declining to tell it until after the prosecutor has made its case. Politically, I believe that it is fairly clear, that if Mr. Jefferson has a side of the story that is worth telling, then the time to tell it is now.
I believe that Mr. Jefferson has to make a choice, to follow his individual legal interest, or the political interest of himself, the black caucus, and Democrats generally. I for one very much want to hear Mr. Jefferson's story-—soon.
Respectfully, Mr. Jefferson, I hope that it is a very good story.
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