NC legislative leaders and the inevitable temptations of power

The North Carolina Legislative Building (Photo: Clayton Henkel)

In an acceptance speech he delivered in 1991 at a Copenhagen awards ceremony honoring his contributions to European civilization, Vaclav Havel – a poet and playwright who had risen from Soviet-era dissident to become president of what was then still known as Czechoslovakia – used the opportunity to hold forth on the temptations of political power.

Employing simple, easy-to-understand examples, Havel explained how it becomes inevitable – even for politicians with the purest of motives – to succumb to the temptations of privilege, perks and shortcuts.

While, he noted, some privileges he enjoyed as president made obvious sense – a chauffeured limousine, staff to do his shopping and cooking – they were also part of what easily became a slippery slope:

“I myself wage a constant and rather unsuccessful struggle with the advantages I enjoy, and I would not dare say that I can always identify that moment clearly. You get used to things, and gradually, without being aware of it, you may lose your sense of judgement.”

Havel’s honest self-reflections and insights provide a useful backdrop for examining the transformation that’s taken place in the Republican politicians who control the North Carolina General Assembly and dominate the state’s law and policy making apparatus.

During the latter years of the 20 ^th century – a time in which they were looking for ways to escape a decades-long exile in the political wilderness – GOP legislators sounded and acted much like political dissidents.

They regularly railed against the policies and practices of the Democratic “bosses” who called the shots in the Legislative Building. Almost anytime they had the opportunity, Republicans – particularly in the state Senate — decried what they described as their adversaries’ penchants for closed-door decision making, dispensing favors to cronies, and pork spending on pet projects. Term limits were a regular demand.

These complaints reached a fever pitch during and after the corruption scandal that took down Democratic House Speaker Jim Black – this, despite the fact that Black’s Democratic successor, Rep. Joe Hackney, was a dedicated reformer with extraordinary commitments to tough ethics rules and open process.

In 2010, though, the electoral fortunes of legislative Republicans turned, and soon, thanks in large part to digital technology that allowed them to perfect the science of racial and partisan gerrymandering, the former dissidents were comfortably ensconced in positions of great authority.

And since then, of course, the process of succumbing to the temptations of power – the perks, the pork, the pettiness — has taken full flight.

First came the shortcuts in legislative process. While in the minority, Republicans had assailed efforts to limit floor debate or craft parts of the state budget out of the public eye. Since they took power, however, both practices have become not just commonplace, but standard operating procedure.

And then there’s the matter of pork spending – something that Republican lawmakers and their allies in right-wing think tanks passionately crusaded against for decades. Today, the script has completely flipped.

See for example the recent report by investigative reporters Dan Kane and David Raynor of Raleigh’s News & Observer about the millions of dollars GOP budget writers handed over to a Charlotte company that claimed it would become a hub for training Olympic athletes. Or check out former NC Newsline reporter Lisa Sorg’s story on a highly questionable appropriation to a Robeson County defense contractor . Or consider the millions that GOP lawmakers have showered on the state’s completely unaccountable network of “crisis pregnancy centers.” These are just three items from a list as long as your arm.

And then sadly, there are the countless ways in which influential Republican lawmakers have come to enjoy power and privilege.

Consider, Senate President Pro Tem Phil Berger. One suspects that the small-town lawyer who once occupied a closet-sized Legislative Building office as a freshman backbencher could scarcely have imagined how, a quarter century later, he would emerge as a genuine boss who could install his namesake son on the state Supreme Court, profit from a complex Raleigh property arrangement , or jet off to Paris on the dime of a well-connected nonprofit to – nudge, nudge, wink, wink – “learn about organizing massive sporting events.”

And not be outdone in this regard, there’s House Speaker Tim Moore, whose tenure as a legislative top banana has been marked by repeated episodes of questionable self-promotion and enrichment and petty muscle flexing (like literally reassigning a legislative critic to a broom closet for an office).

And, sadly, the list of GOP lawmakers who came to Raleigh espousing good intentions but eventually ended up trying to cash in on their public service – see former Senator Fletcher Hartsell and former Rep. David Lewis , who both ended up convicted of crimes, or more recently, former Rep. Jason Saine who is the target of a new investigation — goes on.

In short, Vaclav Havel was right. It takes an extremely strong and self-aware politician to avoid the inevitable temptations of power – especially as one’s years in office accumulate. And right now, this truth is on full and disheartening display at the North Carolina legislature.