Government in Action--a True Tale

Funny how things work out. Were it not for a political corruption trial under way in federal court, we might never have learned of one state legislator’s heroic mission to a faraway land, might never have heard his true tale of political intrigue, personal sacrifice and tainted goat’s milk.

Fortunately, state Sen. Daniel Boatwright (D-Concord) was summoned Monday to the witness stand. It was not clear what relevance, if any, his testimony had to the case against former state Sen. Paul Carpenter and lobbyist Clayton Jackson. But it was, in its way, enlightening.

Boatwright, a Sacramento lifer if there ever was one, was being questioned about the machinations of a certain political “reform” bill. He explained that prior to the bill, legislators could “just take a trip,” to anywhere, for any reason, and charge it to personal campaign treasuries. With the new “reform” rules, a traveling lawmaker needed to demonstrate a “more than negligible” connection to government business before billing contributors. For example, Boatwright was asked, didn’t you once take such a journey to Greece?

“Yes, I did,” the state senator said, proudly. “Yes, I did.”

*

And so the book was opened, and the story began. Boatwright told his tale in a deep, ringing voice; he pivoted toward the jurors so that they might not miss a word. In 1982, he testified, Greek grape growers had been accused by California farmers of illegally dumping raisins on the world market. The Californians said this had driven down prices, and they were getting killed.

Now, the legislators just couldn’t let California’s own raisin growers be buried by the Greeks. Throwing caution to the wind, they drafted a letter of complaint for delivery to the White House and Congress. Unfortunately, a lawmaker of Greek descent complained. His ancestral people would not dump raisins. He demanded proof. A big row ensued; the issue, Boatwright said, “basically was tearing our caucus apart.”

At this point, Boatwright testified, he was asked by the state Senate leadership to go to Greece and investigate. Happily, he said, the leadership wrote him a note describing the trip as official business. This allowed Boatwright, under the new “reform” rules, to bill his personal campaign treasury for expenses. His international mission would be underwritten by contributors who, for whatever reason, were so impressed by his services they had fattened his campaign coffers with more than $100,000.

And so he booked a 10-day trip to Athens. Now yes, Boatwright admitted, he did upon arrival rent a car and go sightseeing in Delphi, but this was no holiday. No, while in Greece he met with an agricultural minister and a trade minister. He would have met with one more minister, but Boatwright broke out in hives--”goat’s milk in my coffee,” he explained--and was forced to cancel.

Hives or no hives, the man delivered. The agricultural minister, he told the jurors, “literally opened the books” to him, and he could find no evidence of dumping in the Grecian crop reports. Moreover, he was informed, personally, by the Greeks that they weren’t the ones dumping raisins. It was the Turks. Case closed. Boatwright took his “findings,” as he called them, back to Sacramento and wrote a report “using the figures that were given to me.” The matter was dropped. The letter to the President was not written. And peace was restored in the Legislature, if not the vineyards.

*

Well, you know how these court things go. Before anyone had a chance to rush out and nominate Boatwright for a Nobel, the government prosecutors came at him with pesky little questions. Such as, how many hours did he actually spend on business during his trip to Greece? Well, he said, arms crossed, three, maybe four. And did anyone travel with him? Well, yes, um, there was “a person who, um, I was dating at the time, who was my fiancee at the time.” But he thought he paid for her airplane ticket, but not the rest.

And had he considered simply asking the Greeks to mail their data? Gee, he didn’t think they would. And if there had been dumping, what made him believe the Greeks would confess, and to a state senator from California? Well, gee, they were “the original source.” And, finally, this standard of “negligible” connections to official work, this was reform? “Better,” Boatwright said, his voice trailing off, “than what we had before, which was nothing.”

A few jurors could be seen smiling as the cross-examination sawed away at Boatwright’s grand tale. A couple looked angry. Some seemed almost embarrassed for the man. They have heard many such stories during this trial. The case has provided a short course in Sacramento politics. It has been, at times, pretty funny. But it has not been pretty.