Rod Blagojevich fought the law, and the law won.
The former Illinois governor was sentenced today to 14 years in federal prison, in part for lying to the feds and taunting the judicial system, in part for arrogance and vulgarity, and in part for conduct that would have been legal had he just been a little smoother.
Blagojevich is more clown than criminal, and the fact that he will be punished as the latter should give Illinois and the nation no sense of satisfaction. He stepped over the artificial lines of a campaign-finance system that is corrupt to its core, and even after doing so, would not have paid nearly such a dear price—in years or in dollars—had he simply given himself up when first caught on tape trying to peddle President Barack Obama’s f__ing-golden Senate seat, among other incredibly awkward acts.
Hindsight being what it is, it’s hard to imagine how Blagojevich thought he could vanquish the U.S. Department of Justice in a case with such a high profile (as in presidential connection), not to mention those salty, made-for-cyberspace audio tapes. Did he think the feds would be intimidated by his bizarre talk-show defense strategy?
And who did he suppose ultimately held his fate in his hands, Judge Judy?
That said, the 14-year sentence is the sort of thing that customarily happens after somebody dies or tens of millions of dollars gets stolen, not for trying to get sleazy campaign contributions in the course of politics as usual, or even for lying. Blagojevich is certainly no martyr, but the stark resolution of his case, pending appeal, is most useful as a cautionary tale for misbehaving politicians caught on tape by the federal government.
Whatever justice has been served has nothing to do with preserving the purity of America’s septic campaign-finance system. It’s mostly about conduct after arrest.
Blagojevich’s initial sin—not the lying nor eating a tarantula on reality TV, but his clumsiness as a political shakedown artist—truly pales in comparison to most any other crime that results in a sentence of 14 years in the federal penitentiary. Judge James Zagel made an example of Blagojevic, but the huge sentence was not about corruption.
Blagojevic has become an example of what happens when one acts like an idiot after one has been caught.
For all his righteous indignation with Blagojevich’s actions in seeking sleazy campaign favors, Zagel would have been more precise to admonish the ex-governor for “failing to follow the proper rules to obtain sleazy campaign favors.” Or for “not confining lies to the appropriate forums.”
After all, today’s American political system is fueled by bribery—legal bribery, but bribery nonetheless—and virtually every politician, regardless of party, must lie indignantly when anyone suggests even the slightest relationship between campaign gifts and their actions. The key is not to lie under oath.
It would be infantile to pretend that there is no quid-pro-quo to much of the billions that candidates for office receive from those they would govern. And it’s equally ridiculous to think that Blagojevich has carved some new ground here.
Good luck finding a critical appointment—to a judgeship or other truly powerful position—that is completely divorced from politics, meaning that neither the appointee nor their advocates have had any direct or indirect political relationship with the appointing politician. It happens, but not often.
And even in the context of malfeasance in office, the transgression of attempting to a peddle a U.S. Senate seat and then lying about it is arguably not so bad as, say, misusing tax-exempt funds for partisan purposes, and then lying about it.
But enough about Newt Gingrich.
This isn’t about presidential politics, it’s about the singularly awful conduct of Rod Blagojevich in a case made possible by presidential politics. If you’re truly angry about it, you should sit down with your governor, or your congressman, or some other politician who serves you, and let them know it firsthand.
Well, you should have that meeting if you’ve given enough to their political campaigns to have earned your access.
SLM co-owner Ray Hartmann is a panelist on KETC Channel 9’s Donnybrook, which airs Thursdays at 7 p.m.
