Blagojevich pleas too little, too late
After years of playing with fire in the rough and tumble world of Chicago’s corrupt political machine, Rod Blagojevich finally got burned.
Right up to the end, it appeared that he felt he could flash his boyish smile, crank up the bravado and walk away unscathed – just like he had from every other tight spot he’d been in. But last Wednesday, things changed.
It was a subdued, apparently contrite, Blagojevich that faced no-nonsense U.S. District Judge James Zagel on the final day of his sentencing hearing on 18 counts of corruption. The disgraced former governor pleaded for mercy, claimed that he was sorry for his crimes and asked the judge to consider the impact on his two young daughters if he were given a long sentence.
Too little, too late. And the insincerity alarms were ringing off the walls.
Blagojevich should've considered the potential consequences before he repeatedly attempted to misuse the power of his office.
Zagel responded by handing down a sentence of 14 years in federal prison – the most severe penalty given to any of the four Illinois governors who have done time for their wrongdoings.
The judge, the former head of the Illinois State Police, chastised Blagojevich: “When it is the governor who goes bad, the fabric of Illinois is torn and disfigured and not easily or quickly repaired. You did that damage.”
It was a sentence that struck a blow against the culture of corruption that has existed in Illinois politics for years. Blagojevich embraced that culture and attempted to use it for personal gain. One doesn’t have to have to listen to much of the wiretapping that led to his conviction to understand that his public persona was considerably different than the vulgar, scheming, self-absorbed individual on the tapes.
Though it appears that Blagojevich never actually profited from his transgressions – including an attempt to sell the former U.S. Senate seat of President Barack Obama – it clearly was his intent.
How could Blagojevich possibly think that shaking down people for contributions and putting a senate seat up for bid was acceptable? How does one veer so far off the path? How can one’s conscience be so seared that he saw no problem with his behavior – other than what he termed his own “stupidity" that led to his arrest.
In his six years in office, he made a mockery of the governor’s office – refusing to move to Springfield; obsessing on clothes, haircuts and image; and remaining only minimally involved in the actual business of governing. His divisive and demeaning style fostered a polarized atmosphere that made bi-partisan cooperation a rarity. On his watch and in part because of his costly programs, the state began to slide into a fiscal tailspin that will take decades to reverse.
Sadly, his actions also undermined the public's confidence in our government. It will be a difficult task to rebuild that trust after a six-year crime spree in the governor's office.
And it doesn't help that Blagojevich's predecessor, former Gov. George Ryan, is still in prison, also on corruption charges.
Though it is gratifying that Zagel handed down a firm sentence to Blagojevich, it remains a sad time for Illinois. As the latest round of the state’s sordid history of corruption was paraded on a national stage during the trial, we became the butt of jokes by cartoonists, late-night talk show hosts and coffee shop sages.
Now, with this sorry chapter behind us, it’s time for Illinois to move ahead, to heal. And to make certain that this experience isn’t repeated.
Instead of embracing a culture of corruption, we must demand openness in government. Rather than electing representatives in Springfield on the basis of grandiose campaign promises, we must select candidates with trustworthy character and a workable plan to lead our state.
As Blagojevich prepares to check into federal prison early next year, there’s one lingering question that Illinoisans must answer: Have we learned enough to keep this from happening again?
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