Ethics Panel No Place for Sinners or Saints

WASHINGTON — The ranking Democrat of the House Ethics Committee happens to be a man who long ago became known as a master of a political “machine,” a term that does not exactly imply ethical purity. Then again, the reputation of politics and politicians is so low many people consider the phrase “House Ethics Committee” an oxymoron.

But why was Rep. Howard L. Berman (D-Mission Hills)--a 15-year congressman who co-founded the storied but now dormant “Waxman-Berman Machine”--asked to take this job? Is it because in this crowd he’s considered a man with an impeccable reputation, a paragon of virtue?

“No, I don’t think it’s that,” Berman said, grinning. Then he offered this theory: “I am the synthesized, randomly chosen member of the jury pool.”

Maybe there’s something to that, since members of Congress who stand accused of ethical, not criminal, misdeeds must regard this panel, officially called the Committee on Standards of Official Conduct, as a jury of their peers. No saints are allowed, but on the other hand there probably aren’t that many pols who consider themselves absolute sleazeballs either. The perfect peer would be somewhere in between. Remember the House banking controversy, when members were embarrassed by the disclosures that many ran up large overdrafts on their accounts? Berman described himself as “a middling abuser.”

Many of us don’t look forward to jury duty, but in Congress it’s worse. Here they don’t sit in judgment on a stranger, but a colleague.

Ethics is a dirty job. But somebody has to do it.

It’s a high-profile assignment, but not something anybody describes as a “plum.” So when House Minority Leader Richard Gephardt tapped Berman for the job, Berman didn’t say yippee. Reluctantly he accepted the job as colleagues offered condolences.

“He’s performing a public service,” explained his old friend Rep. Henry Waxman (D-Los Angeles).

“I clearly didn’t want it,” Berman said. “At the risk of sounding corny, I in part took it because of the challenge.”

The challenge, he says, is “to repair” a committee that, like Congress itself, had been plagued by partisan politics in recent years. Berman suggested that he and Rep. James V. Hansen of Utah, the committee’s Republican chairman, accomplished this in their evaluation of Speaker Newt Gingrich.

Gingrich had planned to use a personal loan from former Sen. Bob Dole to pay for $300,000 in penalties that stemmed from Gingrich’s admission in the fall that he had submitted false statements to the Ethics Committee during an investigation of the tax-exempt status of a college course he had taught.

Amid criticism that Gingrich was getting a sweetheart arrangement, the committee approved a vastly restructured plan that cut the Dole loan in half, required Gingrich to put up more collateral, pay $50,000 in personal funds immediately and make more frequent payments. The net effect was to make the loan conform more with commercial banking standards, as required by House rules.

“I’d argue that’s an example of two people taking an issue fraught with potential for partisan conflict and coming to a reasonable decision,” Berman said.

Because no other members have been appointed to the Ethics Committee, the decision was left to Hansen and Berman. The vacant seats have also prompted a moratorium on the filing of complaints before the committee until June 12.

There is no guarantee that a bipartisan spirit will always prevail. It’s interesting that political machinists Berman and Waxman, friends and collaborators from their student days at UCLA, find themselves in sensitive, influential roles that pertain to campaign practices.

Waxman, as the ranking Democrat on the House Government Reform and Oversight Committee, has led his party’s counterattack into Republican-led investigations into the White House campaign finance allegations. Waxman has pressed for investigations into congressional fund-raising as well, regardless of party, and has pointedly criticized Government Reform Committee Chairman Dan Burton of Indiana, the subject of campaign finance allegations himself.

Allies say there’s really nothing surprising about Berman’s and Waxman’s roles, because their machine wasn’t the kind of corrupt operation made famous in New York and Chicago. Starting with campaigns in the state Legislature, Waxman and Berman, with the aid of Berman’s political consultant younger brother, Michael, raised money from wealthy donors and funneled it out of their safe districts to help elect like-minded candidates who might later reward them with support on key issues.

If they had a machine, Berman suggests, it was a legal, ethical machine. “I didn’t think there was anything wrong with what we did before. We subordinated our individual ambitions to promote being effective by working together.”

Because Howard Berman is that “synthesized, randomly chosen” peer of Congress and thus a member of the Ethics Committee, it seemed appropriate to invite him to confess his own most ethically dubious deed.

“I’m sure I have thought more unethical things than I did.”

But aren’t there moments of introspection?

“There will always be moments of introspection,” he said. “And they will not be introspective if I talk about them.”

Scott Harris is on assignment in Washington. His column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to him at The Times’ Valley Edition, 20000 Prairie St. , Chatsworth 91311, or via e-mail at scott.harris@latimes.com Please include a phone number.

But why was Rep. Howard L. Berman asked to take this job? He offered this theory: “I am the synthesized, randomly chosen member of the jury pool.”