The many hats of Rod Blagojevich
July 8, 2010 at 9:56 pm
4 comments
Rod Blagojevich bends over the broad white table to confer with one of his lawyers. His face is stern, intense; he speaks rapidly, tersely, and while he is speaking—spitting out legal strategy—his eyes disengage from his attorney, drifting up and outward, searching. The eyes stop on a target. A few more words to the lawyer and he zeroes in on two men in the second row, “You think the Bulls will get LeBron?” he says. He’s many things to many people. Sometimes simultaneously.
In the hall outside, on the way into court, there is a larger than usual crowd waiting outside the cordoned-off hallway with the US Marshal sentries. The well-dressed man smiles, says hello as he wanders through. It’s the post-gag-request subdued Rod Blagojevich. Suddenly he wheels on his heels and raises his hands Nixon-style, the ring finger and pinkie of each hand extended, “As I’ve said all along, I’m innocent of all charges.” His arms fall limp to his side and he ambles into the courtroom with his lawyers in tow.
I’ve known two state governors, only two, and I don’t really know the one from Illinois. Governor Siegelman, of Alabama, was and is a fairly simple man. There was a side of him that was a hardball politician—maybe too much so at times—but you knew he truly cared about the state of Alabama and he cared about people, also perhaps too much at times. His eagerness to help people might have got him in trouble. But you didn’t feel like the man had a closet full of hats that he was interchanging by the hour and the day and the second. The other governor, the one from Illinois, may not really be that complex, as the greatness he aspired to may have been found only in the smoke and mirrors of his side-show quick-change act.
The Governor stops by a couple ladies to chat. “Where you from?” he asks. It’s his favorite opening line. From there, he’ll go into the history of the place, the old neighborhood, the people he knew from there—important people sometimes—and the inevitable political lineage. It is an engaging dialog, impressive. His eyes are darting again, he gives a quick aside to a nearby attorney, spots Patti a few feet away, gives her a little smile, and just as quickly, he’s back to a neighborhood, a school, a boy in the park, a political homily. It goes on.
A flip again, and he is talking fast, terse but smiling a little through taught lips, “Where you from?” he asks some college kids. He talks history, politics, the value of education. “Study hard,” he says. And in a blink, his expansive rambling talk suddenly collapses back to this place, this courthouse, and he talks about his case.”Watch the dates,” he says. “December 6th, December 8th, watch what happens,” and then he’s gone.
In court, we’ll hear yet more sides of Rod Blagojevich, a man who was so frustrated by being passed like a speedbump in Obama’s whirlwind trip to the White House that he curses the President of the United States. It is a man surrounded by yes-men who constantly feed him the only version of reality the Governor wants to hear, who are afraid of his wrath and mindful of the uselessness of arguing with him. It is a portrait of a state, one of these united states, aimlessly drifting off into space.
In the break, he has the dunce cap on, playing the impish brat. He spots some elderly women in the first row of the gallery, and leans over to frame them up personally. He says with a sheepish grin, “Sorry about the language.” That’s his theme, referring to the rants just played on tapes. It’s the hat he’s wearing now. There are a couple more women a few rows back. “Sorry about the language,” he says again, gives an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders with a sheepish grin.
And then there’s the pathos hat, the one where Blagojevich sounds like he is fully conscious of the opportunity he squandered and frittered away. The “Rezko thing” ruined any chance he might have had for an extended political career and likely any chance he had to maintain or improve his financial viability. There is also the black hat. It’s the one where he might have been some kind of ersatz criminal, the kind of governor who would not only get tossed from office, voted out if he could avoid impeachment, but he would wind up in a courtroom, giving one liners to the gawkers or the remnants of his public. And it turns out that he wasn’t really cut out to run a criminal enterprise either. Perhaps it’ll make for a good defense, but he couldn’t get much of a deal—political or otherwise—for the vacant senate seat he controlled, nor could he capitalize on letting criminal-minded people get too close to his government, people who would ruin him forever before they were done. And this is not to imply that his guilt is assured in a court of law, but only that it is clear he was flailing about from scheme to scheme. And through it all, he only came up empty, wearing the sad hat that he deftly rolls down his arm and exchanges for the populist hat. He is like an aging one-hit-wonder pop group, doomed to play their big hit over and over again. Taxes. Healthcare. Children. The hard working people who are supposed to support a guy who never liked to work that much and then wanted hundreds of thousands of dollars to take care of his “”f***ing family and his f***ing kids.” What hat is that?
The prosecution’s denouement
The prosecution has said that they will rest either late Monday or early Tuesday. This will be followed by the usual Rule 29 motion, arguing that the defendant should be acquitted because the prosecution has failed to prove its case, which will be followed by Judge Zagel’s denial, and it doesn’t look like any of the twenty-four counts are in jeopardy of being dismissed. Zagel could alternatively defer ruling on the Rule 29 motion until after the defense’s case, or even after the jury’s verdict. But in watching Judge Zagel thus far in this courtroom, I would expect him to confidently deny the motion before the defense puts on their case.
A basic run-down of the various counts in terms of where both sides stand as the case shifts from the prosecution to the defense follows:
Counts that are fairly strongly made for the prosecution, at this juncture include: 4, 13, 21, and 24.
Counts that might be defensible or at least have some room for reasonable doubt include: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 and 22. I am not convinced that the counts derived from Doug Scofield or the activities of Lon Monk (with the possible exception of the RICO charges listed below) will hold up.
Counts 1-3 and 23 are the two RICO charges and two conspiracy counts. These could go either way as they are largely predicated on the jury’s determinations they will make on the other counts.
Things could shift in the waning moments of the prosecution’s case as it is likely that John Wyma could be the anchor witness.
Greenlee
Former Deputy Governor Bob Greenlee was a very strong witness for the prosecution (although he is yet to undergo cross-examination). He was articulate, well-spoken, and was able to testify without any cooperating-witness baggage. His only drawback as a defense witness was that he was at least the fourth witness to say that he did not always tell Blagojevich the truth, and that he often resorted to telling his boss what he wanted to hear. This might be less problematic for Greenlee, however, because he was able to give convincing reasons about exactly why he said what he said or did what he did, and he also gave fairly detailed descriptions of an often irrational or barely in-control Rod Blagojevich.
Putting this irrationality in the blender and spinning it with the various people who were not always telling Blagojevich the truth, or were not always carrying out his wishes, could possibly result in an unusual defense strategy. But although I have listed many of the counts as defensible and possibly assessable to reasonable doubt, many of them are tottering on the edge and it will definitely take an unusual defense in order for Rod Blagojevich to finally get one of his schemes right.
During a call between Fred Yang, John Wyma and Blagojevich, where the Governor says that if he appoints Jesse Jackson Jr. to the senate seat, he’ll get something “tangible and concrete” from his supporters, Yang can’t seem to get his head around what Blagojevich is saying. Even within the wheeling-dealing nature of politics, there are still rules and boundaries and most people know what and where they are. But Yang is enthusiastic about using the senate seat as a play to get something, and at some point on the tape, he delivers a great line (especially if he could have known that some day it would be played in court).
He said: “It’s not personal. It’s just business.” Heard that line before? It’s from The Godfather, probably not the best quote to use when all the phones are tapped.
Jesse Jackson Jr. and Patti Blagojevich
There’ll be more on dropping the Jesse and Patti pieces into the story over the weekend. But for now, a couple of things came out of some of the tapes. It looks like Jesse Jackson might have known that large sums of money were being offered to secure his place in the senate. It also looks like Blagojevich was planning on seeing Jackson on the day Blagojevich was arrested, December 9, 2008. Besides the fact that the Tribune broke the story that the Governor was being taped five days before. which allegedly caused him to cancel a meeting with Jackson, the announcement or the agreement for the senate seat could have been made on the night of the arrest.
In the hall outside, on the way into court, there is a larger than usual crowd waiting outside the cordoned-off hallway with the US Marshal sentries. The well-dressed man smiles, says hello as he wanders through. It’s the post-gag-request subdued Rod Blagojevich. Suddenly he wheels on his heels and raises his hands Nixon-style, the ring finger and pinkie of each hand extended, “As I’ve said all along, I’m innocent of all charges.” His arms fall limp to his side and he ambles into the courtroom with his lawyers in tow.
I’ve known two state governors, only two, and I don’t really know the one from Illinois. Governor Siegelman, of Alabama, was and is a fairly simple man. There was a side of him that was a hardball politician—maybe too much so at times—but you knew he truly cared about the state of Alabama and he cared about people, also perhaps too much at times. His eagerness to help people might have got him in trouble. But you didn’t feel like the man had a closet full of hats that he was interchanging by the hour and the day and the second. The other governor, the one from Illinois, may not really be that complex, as the greatness he aspired to may have been found only in the smoke and mirrors of his side-show quick-change act.
The Governor stops by a couple ladies to chat. “Where you from?” he asks. It’s his favorite opening line. From there, he’ll go into the history of the place, the old neighborhood, the people he knew from there—important people sometimes—and the inevitable political lineage. It is an engaging dialog, impressive. His eyes are darting again, he gives a quick aside to a nearby attorney, spots Patti a few feet away, gives her a little smile, and just as quickly, he’s back to a neighborhood, a school, a boy in the park, a political homily. It goes on.
A flip again, and he is talking fast, terse but smiling a little through taught lips, “Where you from?” he asks some college kids. He talks history, politics, the value of education. “Study hard,” he says. And in a blink, his expansive rambling talk suddenly collapses back to this place, this courthouse, and he talks about his case.”Watch the dates,” he says. “December 6th, December 8th, watch what happens,” and then he’s gone.
In court, we’ll hear yet more sides of Rod Blagojevich, a man who was so frustrated by being passed like a speedbump in Obama’s whirlwind trip to the White House that he curses the President of the United States. It is a man surrounded by yes-men who constantly feed him the only version of reality the Governor wants to hear, who are afraid of his wrath and mindful of the uselessness of arguing with him. It is a portrait of a state, one of these united states, aimlessly drifting off into space.
In the break, he has the dunce cap on, playing the impish brat. He spots some elderly women in the first row of the gallery, and leans over to frame them up personally. He says with a sheepish grin, “Sorry about the language.” That’s his theme, referring to the rants just played on tapes. It’s the hat he’s wearing now. There are a couple more women a few rows back. “Sorry about the language,” he says again, gives an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders with a sheepish grin.
And then there’s the pathos hat, the one where Blagojevich sounds like he is fully conscious of the opportunity he squandered and frittered away. The “Rezko thing” ruined any chance he might have had for an extended political career and likely any chance he had to maintain or improve his financial viability. There is also the black hat. It’s the one where he might have been some kind of ersatz criminal, the kind of governor who would not only get tossed from office, voted out if he could avoid impeachment, but he would wind up in a courtroom, giving one liners to the gawkers or the remnants of his public. And it turns out that he wasn’t really cut out to run a criminal enterprise either. Perhaps it’ll make for a good defense, but he couldn’t get much of a deal—political or otherwise—for the vacant senate seat he controlled, nor could he capitalize on letting criminal-minded people get too close to his government, people who would ruin him forever before they were done. And this is not to imply that his guilt is assured in a court of law, but only that it is clear he was flailing about from scheme to scheme. And through it all, he only came up empty, wearing the sad hat that he deftly rolls down his arm and exchanges for the populist hat. He is like an aging one-hit-wonder pop group, doomed to play their big hit over and over again. Taxes. Healthcare. Children. The hard working people who are supposed to support a guy who never liked to work that much and then wanted hundreds of thousands of dollars to take care of his “”f***ing family and his f***ing kids.” What hat is that?
The prosecution’s denouement
The prosecution has said that they will rest either late Monday or early Tuesday. This will be followed by the usual Rule 29 motion, arguing that the defendant should be acquitted because the prosecution has failed to prove its case, which will be followed by Judge Zagel’s denial, and it doesn’t look like any of the twenty-four counts are in jeopardy of being dismissed. Zagel could alternatively defer ruling on the Rule 29 motion until after the defense’s case, or even after the jury’s verdict. But in watching Judge Zagel thus far in this courtroom, I would expect him to confidently deny the motion before the defense puts on their case.
A basic run-down of the various counts in terms of where both sides stand as the case shifts from the prosecution to the defense follows:
Counts that are fairly strongly made for the prosecution, at this juncture include: 4, 13, 21, and 24.
Counts that might be defensible or at least have some room for reasonable doubt include: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 and 22. I am not convinced that the counts derived from Doug Scofield or the activities of Lon Monk (with the possible exception of the RICO charges listed below) will hold up.
Counts 1-3 and 23 are the two RICO charges and two conspiracy counts. These could go either way as they are largely predicated on the jury’s determinations they will make on the other counts.
Things could shift in the waning moments of the prosecution’s case as it is likely that John Wyma could be the anchor witness.
Greenlee
Former Deputy Governor Bob Greenlee was a very strong witness for the prosecution (although he is yet to undergo cross-examination). He was articulate, well-spoken, and was able to testify without any cooperating-witness baggage. His only drawback as a defense witness was that he was at least the fourth witness to say that he did not always tell Blagojevich the truth, and that he often resorted to telling his boss what he wanted to hear. This might be less problematic for Greenlee, however, because he was able to give convincing reasons about exactly why he said what he said or did what he did, and he also gave fairly detailed descriptions of an often irrational or barely in-control Rod Blagojevich.
Putting this irrationality in the blender and spinning it with the various people who were not always telling Blagojevich the truth, or were not always carrying out his wishes, could possibly result in an unusual defense strategy. But although I have listed many of the counts as defensible and possibly assessable to reasonable doubt, many of them are tottering on the edge and it will definitely take an unusual defense in order for Rod Blagojevich to finally get one of his schemes right.
During a call between Fred Yang, John Wyma and Blagojevich, where the Governor says that if he appoints Jesse Jackson Jr. to the senate seat, he’ll get something “tangible and concrete” from his supporters, Yang can’t seem to get his head around what Blagojevich is saying. Even within the wheeling-dealing nature of politics, there are still rules and boundaries and most people know what and where they are. But Yang is enthusiastic about using the senate seat as a play to get something, and at some point on the tape, he delivers a great line (especially if he could have known that some day it would be played in court).
He said: “It’s not personal. It’s just business.” Heard that line before? It’s from The Godfather, probably not the best quote to use when all the phones are tapped.
Jesse Jackson Jr. and Patti Blagojevich
There’ll be more on dropping the Jesse and Patti pieces into the story over the weekend. But for now, a couple of things came out of some of the tapes. It looks like Jesse Jackson might have known that large sums of money were being offered to secure his place in the senate. It also looks like Blagojevich was planning on seeing Jackson on the day Blagojevich was arrested, December 9, 2008. Besides the fact that the Tribune broke the story that the Governor was being taped five days before. which allegedly caused him to cancel a meeting with Jackson, the announcement or the agreement for the senate seat could have been made on the night of the arrest.
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