Trials of Political Scandal
If there ever was a classic trial for corruption, it would be the trial of Lord Chancellor Francis Bacon in 1621. Bacon, one of the founders of modern science, had published his critique of Aristotle, the Novam Organum, the previous year.
His influential Advancement of Learning had been published nearly two decades earlier. As a politician he had served in Parliament for nineteen years and, with the accession of James I, became the solicitor general, then the attorney general, a member of the Privy Council, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, and finally the powerful right hand of the king, Lord Chancellor. His affluence increased with his power, but so did his enemies. A bitter rival throughout their parallel careers was Edward Coke. Coke served on the committee investigating Bacon and was the first to substitute the word bribe for “gift” or “gratuity.”1 Bacon’s impeachment by Parliament for taking bribes must be viewed as an attack also on King James. James, who was not above taking gratuities, gifts, or bribes himself, acknowledged that “if I were…to punish those who take bribes, I should soon not have a single subject left.”2On the advice of James, Bacon confessed to twenty-three counts of corruption, admitting that he took gifts from litigants but denying that he had been influenced. The House of Lords condemned him to pay a ruinous fine of £40,000, to be imprisoned in the Tower during the king’s pleasure, and to be barred from holding office. Granting a full pardon, James released Bacon from the Tower after four days and remitted the fine. Although his scholarly career continued, Bacon’s political career was at an end. Before he died, he wrote in his notebook about his trial: “It was the justest censure in Parliament that was these 200 years.”3
History reveals no lack of trials for misuse of public authority for private ends.
Every generation has its Watergate, Abscam, or Teapot Dome cases, and many similar cases involving lesser officials, calling our attention to the temptations of power and the question of where the line is drawn between private life and public duty. The dilemmas inherent in holding public office arise not only from the influence that those with power have for shaping policy toward special interests while claiming that they are acting in the public interest, but also from their vulnerability to the bad publicity of false charges.For example, in 1971, Secretary of the Treasury John Connally urged President Nixon, as taped conversation reveals, to “satisfy dairymen” in order to secure their financial support for the 1972 election. In 1975, Connally was tried for accepting $10,000 in illegal gratuities from the Associated Milk Producers in return for his efforts to obtain an increase in the milk price support. The major prosecution witness was a lawyer from the Milk Producers, Jake Jacobsen, who had been granted immunity from prosecution by the federal authorities in return for his testimony. Connally was acquitted, but Jacobsen was arrested by the Texas authorities for misuse of $825,000 in a savings and loan firm for which he was an officer.4 Was Connally the victim of a “con job” by Jacobsen, or did Connally merely “beat the rap?”
When public officials are tried on charges of corruption, public confidence in the judicial system is often at stake. Judge John Sirica became Time magazine’s Man of the Year for upholding the integrity of the law in the Watergate cases. Conversely, federal Court of Appeals judge and former Illinois governor Otto Kerner was convicted of taking a bribe of racetrack stock in return for favors to racetrack owners while he was governor. Although he had an unimpaired reputation and insisted that he was innocent, it was important to demonstrate to the public, as a New York Times editorial pointed out, that not even so powerful an official as Kerner was beyond the reach of the judicial system, especially when the system is often accused of being stacked in favor of the elite and against the lowly.5 The prosecutor, incidentally, was James R.
Thompson, who later became the Illinois governor partially because of his reputation for being tough on crime, gained somewhat in the Kerner case.A trial for corruption can easily become partisan. Anne Boleyn’s trial for adultery and incest in 1536 is an example. Although Anne had borne a female child to Henry VIII, she incurred Henry’s sharp displeasure when a baby boy was born dead. Henry’s eye was also attracted toward a maid of Anne’s, Jane Seymour. He accused Anne of adultery, and he referred the matter to the Privy Council. Faithfully, the members of the council reported that Queen Anne had committed adultery with five members of the court, including her own brother. The five, plus Anne, were sent to the Tower, tried in Westminster, found guilty, sentenced to death, and executed. Before the month was out Henry married Jane.6 Like all partisan trials, Anne Boleyn’s lacks significant political or legal questions. It operated wholly within the political agenda set by Henry’s will. Just as the Privy Council and the court at Westminster had obliged Henry, the archbishop obliged Henry by annulling his marriage to Anne and declaring their child, Elizabeth, a bastard. Henry wanted Anne out of his way, and the only question was how it could be accomplished.
Trials for corruption which operate within the rule of law present difficult entanglements of fact, legal issues, ethical judgments, and trial by media. From the trial of Francis Bacon to Watergate and Abscam a mesh of problems ensnare the courts and the public. Who did what? Which witness can be believed? Was there criminal intent? Were the defendants entrapped? Did the media bias the jury? Are the judge and lawyers politically ambitious? These and other similar questions arise in each case. Unlike a partisan trial, in which such potential embarrassments can be sidestepped, these matters arise because of the rule of law.