Power of Words From High Places

When Bill Clinton on his last day as president commuted the sentence of convicted Los Angeles cocaine dealer Carlos Vignali, he was not being merciful to a minor drug figure suffering excessive punishment under mandatory federal sentencing laws. Instead, he was responding to pleas from local Democratic politicians and other public figures, some of whom had received contributions from Vignali’s father, Horacio, a businessman who became a big donor to state and federal officeholders after his son was arrested in 1993, convicted and sentenced to 15 years in prison. It was a depressingly familiar quid pro quo: Money buys access, and access achieves influence.

Among those who intervened on Carlos Vignali’s behalf were Rep. Xavier Becerra, former Assembly Speaker Antonio Villaraigosa, former Rep. Esteban Torres, Cardinal Roger M. Mahony and Los Angeles County Sheriff Lee Baca. Most wrote letters asking Clinton to review the case.

Villaraigosa and Mahony said this week they regretted their involvement.

Among those also approached in the effort to win clemency for Vignali was Alejandro N. Mayorkas, the U.S. attorney in Los Angeles. He took the highly unusual step in 1999 of calling Todd Jones, his counterpart in Minnesota, where Vignali was tried, to ask about the status of the case. Jones had urged that Vignali’s sentence not be commuted, believing that the evidence clearly showed he had had a central role in moving more than 800 pounds of cocaine in the United States.

Those who lobbied the Justice Department and White House on Carlos Vignali’s behalf no doubt believed they were acting in good faith. But once again it seems clear that timely political contributions and connections played a significant role in mocking the processes of justice.

Federal prisons house many who will serve far more time than Vignali for doing much less. They do not come from wealthy and influential families who understand how to get the attention of the White House.

Pardon Records Tucked Away

There are many questions about this and other last-minute commutations and pardons, but answers are locked away in crates moved from the White House to storage in Arkansas, awaiting the building of a presidential library. The National Archives, administrator of presidential papers, by law need not start releasing records for five years, but the former president could request an earlier release. Clinton’s relentless display of bad taste and squandering of goodwill as he left office--which he began to try to repair by announcing relocation of his offices from pricey midtown Manhattan to Harlem--linger bitterly for many Americans. Clinton can undo some of the damage by requesting the records from the national archivist, as he is allowed to do, and releasing them. Lest he forget, they are eventually public documents anyway.