Here we go again. Another corrupt Chicago politician hogging all
the headlines. It seems like every time you open a newspaper (or
surf the Internet) some columnist is snootily recounting
Chicago’s colorful past as a Shangri-la of corruption and
political intrigue, from Mayor Levi Boone’s 1855 Beer Riots to
the zany antics of Gov. Rod Blagojevich. Manhattanites may be
ardent arts and culture snobs, but no one appreciates a good
political scandal like a Bears fan.
Just the other day Wall Street Journal readers were
treated to the giddy recollections of Chicago native Scott Simon,
who reminisced
wistfully about the colorful history of Chicago politics.
“Chicagoans and Illinoisans,” wrote Mr. Simon, “love political
scandal the way that Milanese love opera.”
Speaking as a journalist who just happens to be a downstate
Illinoisan, I’ll grant that political scandals are wonderful
copy, perhaps even comedy gold. But as a disenfranchised citizen
of a corrupt, one-party state ruled by Democratic party hacks
(and I mean that in the best way possible) there is little to
“love” in these continuous scandals.
Chicagoans, no doubt, will say us outsiders are simply jealous.
We know better. First of all, the Windy City doesn’t have the
monopoly on corrupt politicians. Though Chicagoans would be loath
to acknowledge it, I’ll wager downstate Illinois is easily as
crooked as The Second City. Indeed, federal investigations into
corruption have a long and sustained history downstate. In recent
years, FBI raids on a number of city halls in the metro-east (St.
Clair and Madison counties, in particular) have led to the
conviction of countless mayors, school board presidents and
political party bosses, the chairman of the Republican Party in
St. Clair County told one southern Illinois newspaper.
One of the more memorable convictions involved the charismatic
slum preacher and erstwhile mayor of Alorton, Callie Mobley.
Entering the village (usually to purchase crack), one was greeted
by large billboards that read: “Welcome to The Village of
Alorton, Where Jesus is Lord. Callie Mobley Mayor.” Mobley’s
reign as mayor of Illinois’ poorest community ended in 2000 with
her guilty plea for federal income tax evasion. During the
mayor’s corruption trial it was revealed that she’d paid herself
nearly a quarter of a million dollars in excess salary and forced
village employees to perform extensive remodeling work on her
home and rental properties.
Before Mobley there was the late Paul Powell, who hailed from the
small coalmining town of Vienna. According to Powell’s biographer
Robert E. Hartley, the former secretary of state never earned
more than $30,000 a year, yet he left an estate worth more than
$2 million — $800,000 of it in bills packed into shoe boxes,
briefcases and strongboxes in the closet of his hotel suite in
Springfield.
And who can forget George Ryan, the supposed corruption-fighting
governor now serving six and a half years in prison? Ryan hailed
from Kankakee, a city of 6,272 families best known as the
hometown of actor Fred MacMurray and Little Orphan Annie creator
Harold Gray. Ryan had few ties to Chicago politics, but still
managed to “steer contracts worth millions of dollars to friends
and took payments and vacations in return” then tried to cover
his tracks by lying to the FBI. Seventy-nine former state
officials, lobbyists and truck drivers were charged in the
investigation, and at least 76 have been convicted.
But lest one should think Illinois’ legislative and executive
branches hold a monopoly on corruption, consider the state’s
judicial branch. Cook County Circuit Court judges are notorious
for accepting bribes (18 county judges were convicted on
corruption charges between 1987-1997) while the southern Illinois
counties of Madison and St. Clair have long been known as two of
the nation’s worst judicial hellholes (havens for plaintiffs
lawyers and a horror for big business).
I COULD GO ON AND ON. But the point is Chicago is way too full of
itself. Chicagoans like to imagine the rest of the state doesn’t
exist, or exists only to provide them with sweet corn for their
swank dinner parties and ethanol for their Hummers. Gov.
Blagojevich certainly didn’t win any friends downstate when he
refused to move from his beloved Chicago to the governor’s
16-room mansion in Springfield. Not that he cared. The fact is
Blago was never much interested in what happened outside of Cook
County. He only wanted to be Emperor of Chicagoland.
If there is a common theme running through these newspaper
stories it is that Illinoisans have grown cynical and indifferent
to political corruption. This is nonsense. Speaking for my fellow
downstaters, we loathe corruption and scandal and would fain see
the Blagojeviches and Ryans pilloried and pelted with rotten eggs
on the steps of the state capitol. As for our alleged cynicism,
we know what to expect from politicians, no matter whether they
hail from Cicero or Cairo. Power corrupts, and it matters not
whether one is mayor of Alorton or governor of Chicago. Errr,
Illinois. Governor of Illinois.
