When politicians get comfortable, danger lurks
WASHINGTON -- Carefully drawn districts and enormous campaign war chests are protecting countless members of Congress from the scrutiny that comes with a tough race. Yet that kind of testing may be precisely what they need, to remind them that they're politicians, and that they're not invulnerable.
The scandals that have tripped up five congressmen over the past year have little in common, except for a shocking brazenness. They were the acts of people who seemingly had no fear of getting caught, let alone being punished. And it's been astounding to many in Washington to realize that so many politicians would think that way, even as colleagues complain of living in fishbowls.
Mark Foley, the Florida Republican who resigned on Friday, must have known on some level that every lewd e-mail message to an underage page was a career-killer, if not a crime. But he obviously felt secure enough in Congress to assume that his secrets would never get out.
If, as some news reports have suggested, the e-mails were given to the media by Foley's political opponents in Florida, where he was facing a tough race for the first time in many years, it should hardly have come as a surprise: Rival campaigns routinely employ people to do opposition research, casting about for any embarrassing revelations. And Foley's e-mails were a treasure trove.
But if Foley was reckless, what was Randy ``Duke" Cunningham, the California Republican, thinking when he wrote out a menu of luxury items for defense contractors to consider as bribes, the way bridal couples register for gifts? And what was William Jefferson, the Louisiana Democrat, thinking when he allegedly stuffed $90,000 in cash bribes in his freezer? And what did Bob Ney, the Ohio Republican, think would happen when he accepted thousands in gambling chips from a businessman known as ``The Fat Man"?
They might have been thinking that they were on the verge of becoming fodder for late-night comics. But it seems likelier that they were thinking how safe their House seats were.
In the last election, Cunningham won with a very comfortable 58 percent of the vote, while outspending his opponent by roughly $930,000 to $212,000.
Ney did even better, running up 66 percent of the vote while outspending his opponent by roughly $1,485,000 to $18,000.
Foley had a super-comfy 68 percent, spending $1.8 million. (His opponent's total wasn't available.)
Jefferson dominated his district with a gargantuan 79 percent of the vote, outspending his rival by roughly $961,000 to $15,000.
Clearly, each saw himself as a permanent member of Congress, well beyond the political pressures that are supposed to keep politicians responsive to the public.
The former majority leader, Tom DeLay, the fifth member of Congress ensnared in scandal, was the only one whose practices didn't seem gross on their face, at least by congressional standards. But DeLay, who took lobbyist-funded golf trips, and who allegedly conspired to hide contributions, was oblivious in his own way.
Members of Congress secure their seats by building giant campaign war chests, and then grease their path to leadership by funneling campaign contributions to others. All the dealing seems to inure them to embarrassment; when they emerge as leaders, and face the scrutiny that goes along with that status, they seem surprised to discover that the public regards their wheeling and dealing as unsavory.
This has befallen House leaders of both parties, from the former Ways and Means Committee chairman, Dan Rostenkowski, to two former speakers, Jim Wright and Newt Gingrich.
When the Framers of the Constitution envisioned the US government, they believed that House members would be perpetually challenged -- that having two-year terms would make them closely responsive to the demands of constituents. And the Senate, with six-year terms, would be insulated from political pressures.
The opposite has happened. With a statewide constituency, and the national attention that comes with being one in a body of only 100, senators are tested fairly regularly; many spend their Sundays jousting with one another and with various pundits on TV.
But House members like Foley, Ney, Jefferson, and Cunningham are faceless even in Washington, and will never be tested -- or checked -- if they don't face competitors back home. Until then, they will continue to wield power in secret, and will never imagine the day when they might be leading the news on Fox and CNN.
Peter S. Canellos is the Globe's Washington bureau chief. National Perspective is his weekly analysis of events in the capital and beyond. 
