Bob McDonnell, former governor of Virginia, may end up beating the rap for all those gifts he got while in office from a snake oil salesman seeking help from the state government. Judging from Supreme Court arguments earlier this week [April 26], five or six of the justices seem ready to agree with McDonnell’s attorney and his many supporters that McDonnell’s public corruption conviction threatens the very nature of representative government in 21st century United States.
A ruling for McDonnell
seems unlikely to revive the political fortunes of the one-time rising
Republican star. But a broadly written decision to throw out the convictions
will hamper future public corruption prosecutions and make the practice of “pay
for play” all the more common than it already is: mostly legal if done with a
wink and a nod.
A federal court jury of
McDonnell’s peers (or perhaps his betters) convicted the former Republican
chief executive of eleven counts of fraud in September 2014 after 17 hours of
deliberation following a six-week trial. Ever since the scandal was first aired
in the news media and then in court, McDonnell has stoutly maintained his
innocence.
McDonnell insists that he
never really did anything for the gift-giving diet supplement executive Johnnie
Williams except meet with him, host events, and arrange meetings. The jury was
not buying it, but McDonnell’s appellate attorney Noel Francisco made more
headway with the argument at the Supreme Court.
Francisco urged the
justices to rule that for a public official to engage in an “official act” under
federal anti-corruption statutes the official “must either make an official
decision or urge someone else to do so.” The line, Francisco said, is between “access
to the decision-makers” apparently OK “and trying to
influence those decisions.” Despite setting up the meetings, McDonnell never
actually urged state regulators or university researchers to help Williams market
or prove the efficacy of his Star Scientific diet supplement Anatabloc.
The justices probed
Francisco’s arguments, but more politely than customary for a bench that
remains very hot even after the volatile Antonin Scalia’s death. When the government’s
lawyer Michael Dreeben took the lectern, however, he encountered tough
questions quickly first from Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. and
then the other two justices at the court’s ideological center, Anthony M. Kennedy
and Stephen G. Breyer.
Silent during Francisco’s
argument, Roberts began by quoting what he called an “extraordinary” amicus
brief filed on behalf of White House counsels for the five past presidents.
They all warned, Roberts said, that upholding McDonnell’s conviction would
“cripple the ability of elected officials to fulfill their role in our
representative democracy.”
Breyer too worried about
public officials unclear about where to draw legal lines and about executive
branch prosecutors with “dangerous” powers to go after legislators. “My problem
is the criminal law as the weapon of choice,” he said.
The gifts that Williams
lavished on McDonnell and his now estranged wife came to $175,000 in all,
according to the government’s estimate. They are too numerous and too petty to
mention all in a column, but among them a personally inscribed Rolex watch,
golf equipment, golf outings, a vacation, and an outright undocumented
five-figure loan. The justices, however, came up with hypotheticals that reduced
the legal issue to trifles: an afternoon of trout fishing, Roberts suggested,
or from Breyer a bottle of expensive French wine.
Dreeben, a deputy solicitor
general with 27 years in the office, did his best to answer the justices’
concerns in what was his milestone 100th argument before the court.
Legalizing this kind of quid for public officials is a
“recipe for corruption” and would send a “terrible message for citizens,”
Dreeben said. But where’s the quo, Roberts asked. Dreeben
stood his ground. Helping arrange “a preferential opportunity” that other
citizens do not have is “official action,” he answered.
When Francisco returned for
rebuttal, Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg put Dreeben’s argument to him, but
Francisco similarly stood his ground. No crime, Francisco answered, if the
official did not actually try to influence the outcome. Earlier, Justice Sonia
Sotomayor had similarly challenged Francisco by suggesting that state officials
certainly might have thought McDonnell was trying to influence them.
To Breyer’s concern,
Dreeben pointed to the pride of the U.S. criminal justice system: the
jury. “There is a very critical protection here,” Dreeben said. “It’s the
requirement of showing something beyond a reasonable doubt to a jury.” Kennedy
was unmoved. “You’re going to tell the senators, the officials with the
lunches, don’t worry,” Kennedy said, mockingly. “The jury has to be convinced
beyond a reasonable doubt, and that’s tough.”
Anti-corruption prosecutors
and good-government types confront the stark reality that money is more and
more the mother’s milk not only of politics but also of governance. And political
practitioners are too clever to be constrained by straightforward quid
pro quo bribery laws.
Neither of the statutes
used in the McDonnell indictment is a bribery statute as such. The Hobbs Act,
aimed at labor unions when enacted in 1946, prohibits obtaining money “under
color of official right.” The “honest services fraud” statute, enacted in 1988,
prohibits depriving someone (think: constituents) of “the intangible value of
honest services.” A jury found McDonnell guilty of conspiring to do both.
Oddly, a majority of the justices seem ready to narrow those laws to hold
public officials not to the highest but to a lower standard.