Congressman betrays the public trust
It’s time to make a little room for the latest bust in the Pennsylvania politics Hall of Shame.
“Bust” being a very appropriate word in this instance.
Longtime Philadelphia Democratic Congressman Chaka Fattah is the latest public servant found to be helping himself at least as much as the public, if not more.
Monday Fattah, who has spent two decades representing some very poor Philadelphia neighborhoods, was sentenced to half that much time for lining his own pockets along the way.
It’s one of the longest prison terms ever meted out to a member of Congress on corruption charges. Fattah should consider himself lucky. Prosecutors were actually asking the judge to toss the longtime pol into the slammer for up to 22 years.
Instead U.S. District Judge Harvey Bartle III went easy on the congressman after hearing from a long list of friends and family members asking for leniency based on his long record of public service. They are right — and wrong. There is no doubt that Fattah has done much good in his more than two decades of public service. None of that explains what he did aside from a single word: Greed.
Fattah was convicted of a fairly common crime — theft. He ripped off thousands of dollars from taxpayers and charitable organizations. As a member of Congress, Fattah earned $174,000 a year. Apparently it was not enough. Fattah apparently yearned to belong to an upper echelon of movers and shakers, and he broke the law to do it. Rack up one more dent in the public’s increasing lack of trust in our public institutions, something Judge Bartle noted before passing sentence.
“You abused the trust they placed in you time and again,” he told the congressman. “Your flagrant behavior undermines the confidence of the citizenry in all public institutions.”
It apparently did little, however, to diminish the former congressman’s bravado.
Fattah addressed the court, expressing remorse, in particular for how his actions affected his constituents, while stopping short of actually acknowledging his guilt.
“The investigation and the trial has been the most disappointing event in my now 60-year-old life,” Fattah told the court. “I’ve helped tens of millions of people, and that has nothing to do with the fact that I have been found on the wrong side of these questions by a jury.”
Yes, he’s helped millions. And helped himself to thousands of dollars along the way. Prosecutors say he fleeced the non-profit education group he set up to pay off his campaign debt from his unsuccessful run for mayor. Now, in addition to looking at a decade behind bars, he still needs to fork over $600,000 in restitution. Fattah joins a long line of Philly and Pennsylvania politicians — of both parties — caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Few, however, have flouted the system at every step in the process the way Fattah has. He joins the Rogue’s Gallery of shady characters, people like state Sen. Vince Fumo, state Sen. Buddy Cianfrani, Congressman Michael Myers of Abscam fame, former House Speaker John Perzel, City Councilmen George Schwartz and Jimmy Tayoun.
And of course, let’s not forget our most recent addition to the Pennsylvania Hall of Shame — former Attorney General Kathleen Kane. Ironically, it was a sting operation that snagged several state representatives taking cash and gifts that led to Kane’s downfall. Fattah’s Achilles heel was not rooted in political revenge. His was a bit more worldly. He did it for the money.
The bucks stop here, Mr. Fattah. So does your freedom.
He will report to federal prison in late January.
We take no glee in noting this latest public official to run afoul of the law. Instead, we wonder just what it is about this state that lends itself to corrupt public officials. Then we wonder why people don’t take part in the process, why people are angry, why they believe the system has betrayed them.
Maybe, between haughty references to his record and why he believes the prosecutors and jury got his all wrong, Fattah could ponder that question.
And even better, provide an answer. Why? Why do it? Why throw away a distinguished career of public service, a career that clearly helped a lot of people. Many people in Fattah’s old district are destitute. They have little in the way of possessions and little in the way of hope to go with it. Fattah’s sad saga offers a “little” of its own. Little in the way of hope that Pennsylvania politics will change any time soon.