Although bribery in one form or another is commonly practiced throughout the world, influence peddling, also known as "pay-to-play", is an indictable offense when public officials are involved. The State of Illinois has had more than its share of charges, with the recently impeached Governor Blagojevech only the latest to follow in the tradition of his state.
In fact, according to former Chicago alderman and Professor of Political Science at the University of Illinois Dick Simpson, 1000-plus Illinoisans have been convicted of political corruption charges since 1971, and most of these were public officials.
In an indication of non-partisan corruption, according to The Washington Times, three of Illinois’ recent governors – Democrats Otto Kerner amd Dan Walker, and Republican George Ryan – have been convicted of political corruption charges related to accepting bribes or fraudulent loans. Kerner was brought to book when an astute IRS auditor noticed that a local racetrack owner had written off bribes as a business expense on her tax returns.
U.S. Attorney Patrick J. Fitzgerald is the most recent crime buster to go after Illinois politicians and their appointees. Blago is only the most recent trophy he wants to hang on his wall of infamy.
The More Things Change, the More they Stay the Same
The recorded silliness of Illinois politicians can be found in the archives of the Chicago Historical Society. Archives show they actually began in 1869 when three county commissioners were convicted of trying to bilk taxpayers in a promise to paint City Hall with very high priced special long-lasting paint. The painting contractor simply whitewashed the building and split his remarkably substantial profit with the commissioners. This blatant chicanery could have gone unnoticed. Days after the job was finished, however, an unseasonable rainstorm washed off most of the whitewash, leaving prima facie evidence that fraud was afoot.
Illinois’ contemporary politicians are barely less brazen in their connivances when compared to some of their predecessors, notably two Chicago city aldermen, John “Bathhouse” Coughlin and Michael “Hinky Dink” Kenna. Between them the pair ran Chicago’s vice-ridden First Ward from 1897 to 1938, never losing an election or a primary. Better still from their point of view, neither was ever charged with a crime.
An ex-masseur in a Turkish bath and a self-styled poet, Bathhouse was flamboyance personified. Given to spouting bad poetry during city council meetings, including his own composition, “Ode to a Bathtub,” he was a portly, flashy-dressing, hail-fellow-well-met politician whom many considered an inveterate drunken fool. He was no fool – he was the First Ward’s Prince of Graft. He was also the duo’s point man for obtaining city licenses and contracts and the the collector of payoffs from the ward’s myriad saloons, brothels, and gambling dens.
For his part, Hinky Dink Kenna was the Ward’s dispenser of jobs, especially city jobs such as policemen, firemen, maintenance and construction workers. He operated publicly from his saloon, the Workmen’s Exchange, on Clark Street. In appearance and demeanor Hinky Dink was the antithesis of Bathhouse. He was slightly-built, conservative, and tight-lipped. Together, they were expert vote riggers. They also knew how to throw a party.
Having a Ball
Beginning in 1897 Bathhouse and Hinky Dink organized the Annual First Ward Ball, held in the Chicago Coliseum. Every thief, gambler, prostitute, saloon keeper, and every brothel keeper, pimp, bouncer, and bartender was obliged to buy a ticket to the event. So, too, were many ostensibly law-abiding people beholden to them, including a range of civic employees from top administrators and electees to lowly garbage collectors. In 1907, 15,000 people jammed the Coliseum. The event was reported in the Chicago Tribune as little more than an “underworld orgy.”
The 1908 Ball was to be the last. Reformers finally managed to shut it down by denying the organizers a liquor license. While touted as a charity ball, estimates place Hinky Dink’s and Bathhouse’s net profit from the event at $50,000 annually.
Both men aged well and died in their beds. As for Blago, his story is still in the early chapters. With a little poetic help from Rudyard Kipling, "If you can keep your head...", he does seem to have captured some of the spirit of Illinois politics, though to his credit he hasn’t yet started writing his own verse and aphorisms a la Bathhouse. Shortly after learning he had been officially impeached by the Illinois House of Representatives on January 9th, 2009, he provided a media photo op by going for a jog in the snow.
