Shelley Learns the Hard Way That Politicians Are Not Invisible

Whenever a politician really steps in it -- in scandal -- I think of the legendary Jesse “Big Daddy” Unruh.

Unruh, arguably the most powerful Assembly speaker ever (1961-68) and the most influential state treasurer (1975-87), did some foolish things -- usually because of booze, but that’s not why he comes to mind.

I remember Unruh for his keen insight into politics and politicians, and for what he used to say. The Democrat used to muse about officeholders thinking they were “invisible.”

Intelligent, seemingly sensible people would get elected to state office, move to Sacramento and believe they had become invisible, Unruh would say, shaking his head in amazement. Pampered by perks and power, they’d be lulled into the delusion that common citizens couldn’t see their carryings-on. Only what the politician choreographed and staged could be detected.

Drunk driving, whoring -- especially in Unruh’s day -- shakedowns, payoffs. Most common: dipping into tax dollars for personal politics and thinking nobody was watching.

How else do you explain Secretary of State Kevin Shelley?

He explains himself -- as most tainted politicians do -- by pleading ignorance.

He didn’t know that part of a $500,000 state grant he had secured as an assemblyman for a hometown San Francisco community group apparently was being laundered into contributions to his 2002 campaign for secretary of state.

He didn’t know that the head of the community group, a Shelley fundraiser, also apparently was laundering two real estate transactions into $80,000 for his candidacy.

Once in office, he didn’t know that his shop was contracting with crony consultants, using millions in federal funds dispensed by Washington to educate citizens about new voting machines. He didn’t know that some of these consultants, getting paid with tax dollars, were doing partisan political work -- attending a money-raiser for Sen. John F. Kerry, representing Shelley at a meeting of the California convention delegation....

Well, actually, he did know some of this stuff. “He became kind of Nixonian,” says one insider. “He wanted every activity documented. There’s an e-mail trail.”

Borrowing an old bromide from the Nixon era, what Shelley knew and when he knew it is currently a subject of investigation.

Political pros find it hard to believe that Shelley, a career San Francisco pol, wouldn’t have inquired about the true origin of big contributions ranging from $25,000 to $50,000. He raised only $2.2 million for the entire campaign and beat Republican Keith Olberg by just 3.9%.

As for misusing federal funds, even aides privately are skeptical Shelley didn’t know the details. “Very little goes on without Kevin’s input,” says one. “This guy is a micromanager.”

A federal grand jury and the state attorney general are investigating Shelley’s campaign finances. Especially targeted is the suspected launderer, Julie Lee, a San Francisco political player.

The U.S. Election Assistance Commission is threatening to audit Shelley’s spending of the so-called voter outreach funds. The state auditor already is doing that, under order of the Legislature. The auditor also is examining how pork money -- such as the $500,000 grant -- gets nonchalantly shoveled out the door in the capital. There’ll likely be legislative hearings in January.

Republicans are trying to pressure Democratic legislative leaders into digging as deeply into Shelley as they did Insurance Commissioner Chuck Quackenbush four years ago. Republican Quackenbush presented an inviting target to Democrats and they drove him into resignation.

No question, Democrats owe as much diligence to the Shelley scandals as they displayed on Quackgate.

But Quackenbush’s sins were much more egregious than Shelley’s seem to be and clearly more visible. Basically, Quackenbush tapped insurance companies for $12.8 million to help San Fernando Valley earthquake victims, then earmarked the money for his own political benefit.

Additionally, Shelley has helped himself by not stonewalling -- as nabbed politicians usually do -- once the odorous behavior was reported by the San Francisco Chronicle and then other newspapers. He reimbursed the state its wayward pork. He canceled the crony contracts and acknowledged a need for office reforms.

One central fact requires no investigation because it’s acknowledged by everyone, including Shelley: He frequently acts like a jerk. Verbally abusive. Vulgar. Volatile.

“I’m a hot Irishman,” he recently told the Sacramento Bee. “That’s something I regret every day and it’s something I work on every day.”

Not enough apparently. And he’s now paying for it with high staff turnover, horrible morale, little loyalty. And leaks.

Look, the office is set up all wrong anyway. It should be nonpartisan, like superintendent of public instruction. The state’s top election official should be above suspicion of being a party toady. After all, this isn’t Florida.

And instead of candidates hitting up money launderers, the nonpartisan office could be a pilot project for public financing.

Unruh might have liked that. He famously observed that “money is the mother’s milk of politics.” But he ultimately became an advocate for public financing, concluding: “The milk has soured -- turned to clabber.”

It certainly did very visibly for Shelley.