Political Theater of the Absurd
By Ana Marie Cox
New York Times
Washington -
The bad guy with a fondness for quoting the most extortionary
lines of "The Godfather" walks out of the courtroom dressed like a
film noir villain. He was there because his pretty-boy partner had already
dropped a dime on him. Lying, cheating, stealing, gambling
... and Indians. By Washington
standards, the Jack Abramoff scandal is about as
theatrical as you can get without having sex in the headline. (The last scandal
here to involve costumes was Abscam: we were due for
something that would offer better material for fancy-dress parties than blue
dresses and scooters.)
Until Tuesday, Mr. Abramoff's
elaborate web of corruption was an inside-the-Beltway story: we were the only
ones with the patience for it. But nothing simplifies a scandal like a guilty
plea. Now, the queasily intricate dance of payoffs, favors and
influence-peddling that seems to implicate people from the White House on down
has the nation on edge.
Yet despite predictions that Mr. Abramoff's
deal is the beginning and not the end of the story, it's difficult to see if
this one will end with the satisfying clink of handcuffs.
True, we are told, repeatedly, that the case has half of Washington's
powerbrokers looking over their shoulder and the other half salivating for a
parade of perp walks. And in Washington,
a high body count gets everyone's attention (except maybe the president's). Mr.
Abramoff's connections seem infinite; attempts to
follow the money give you something looking less like a flow chart than like
spaghetti. Delicious, felonious spaghetti.
But who is actually going to receive Jack Abramoff's Lady-and-the-Tramp-style kiss of death? The only
plausible candidate at the moment is Representative Bob Ney,
an Ohio Republican who appears to be a rather ham-fisted bungler. Mr. Abramoff had dealings with dozens of Washington
bigwigs, yet Representative Ney is the only one to
make a (pseudonymous) appearance in the indictment.
What Mr. Ney did was either very bad
or very stupid, likely both. But he hardly needed Mr. Abramoff
to besmirch his reputation: he has recently drawn scrutiny for the unlikely
feat of winning $34,000 on an initial $100 bet during a London casino romp, and
on another junket he met with a convicted con artist whom MSNBC reported had
"cheated on his taxes and was involved in a deal to swindle Elvis
Presley." Mr. Ney refused to discuss these
issues with the press because of "national security implications."
Well, Richard Nixon did give Elvis a federal drug agent's badge.
Despite the desperate glee of the editorializers
and the almost-as-desperate rinsing of Abramoff funds
from Republican coffers, the smell in the air is panic, not blood. In order to
cast their net beyond Diamond Bob Ney, the feds would
have to, as one Republican source told the Times, "pursue a different
definition of bribery" - that is, prove that "if somebody were to
give a gift or a campaign contribution in the same time period as a member took
an official action, that in and of itself would constitute bribery." And
you thought Patrick Fitzgerald was criminalizing politics.
Sad to admit it, but most of what Jack Abramoff
did with politicians (as opposed to his outright fraud with Indian tribes)
wasn't criminal so much as extreme. The Hollywood
arc would have a chain-gang of Congressmen breaking rocks by the final reel,
but we are unlikely to get such satisfaction outside of celluloid.
The best we can do is hope that the lack of so cinematic a
finish will not mean that the Abramoff affair will be
irrelevant or even forgettable. For one thing, Mr. Abramoff
may go down as the first man in American history too corrupt to be a lobbyist.
Poor Paul Miller, who as president of the American League of Lobbyists (that's
the one with the designated-hitter rule) has the thankless task of defending
his trade, told reporters he was reluctant to say that Mr. Abramoff
even deserved to be called a member of the profession. O.K., but he deserves to
be called other things. Some of them unprintable in family
newspapers.
Other modern Congressional kerfuffles
have not been as flashy. Neither the Congressional check-kiting scandal, the
Keating Five imbroglio nor Dan Rostenkowski's thrilling run-in over postal
franking privileges are likely to be made into a mini-series any time soon. But
these past episodes did have the advantage of being prosecutable.
With his casinos, phony charities and Scottish golfing
trips, Jack Abramoff has drawn attention to Washington's
fascinatingly filthy underbelly. One can only hope that the melodrama will keep
people watching. While we should hesitate before defining corruption still
further down ("No chiseler left behind!"), we don't need to pause
before throwing the bums out. Ask any lawmaker: the harshest penalty one can
receive isn't prison; it's losing.
Ana Marie Cox is the editor of the Wonkette blog and author of the novel "Dog Days."