Power And Money and Quislings

   

 Today when I see people equating political positions like U.S Senate seats, and the money that flows to them and through them, with power, I see a lack of understanding about money and power in politics. I was the same way the second to last time Republican Strategist and Manager Pat Collins and I really communicated was on the escalator of the Gand Hyatt Hotel in Washington DC. We were looking out over a sea of white banquet tables, the result of  his handiwork. He laughingly called his venue, “The scene of the crime.” After being a devoted follower of Ronald Reagan, even serving as the staff person advising Reagan’s Kitchen Cabinet during their review of Presidential appointments, he had adjusted his politics a notch, downward in his view, to organize a major political fund-raising dinner for Republican Presidential candidate George H.W.Bush. 

      That was in the Spring of 1992, when I had just decided to not run for my fourth 4-year term as a Democrat on the Montana Public Service Commission. On the escalator going up to the street level I revealed to my friend of more than 30 years, “I’m getting out of politics.” He didn’t laugh with an, “Oh, Sure,” but took me seriously and asked, “Why?”

     “I’ve never understood the money.”

     Then as a hardened operative of many Republican political campaigns he amazed me by saying, “You know, neither have I.”

     In the back of a DC Cab a few minutes later, we had our last conversation. As he dropped me off at The Harrington Hotel, our exchange was hard and true. 

    “Pat, I think you’ve had a stroke.”

    Holding his right arm he asked, “You really think so?”

    “You’d better see a doctor.” 

     I read his obituary the next Spring.

     During my tours of duty at the Pentagon, I’d look up the name of Sergeant David Vallance, our Hamilton High School fullback, on the Vietnam Memorial Wall. I’d cross the river and visit Pat’s grave, in Arlington National Cemetery not because he served in Vietnam but because he served for a while as Secretary of Energy. I’d sometimes stop at the plain marble headstone for Michael Joseph Mansfield, PFC USMC, Montana. Each in their respective year died on the same day. Even that seemed more important than money.

    Mike Mansfield’s last general election campaign cost $100,000. John Tester’s last general election campaign cost mind-boggling millions of dollars. I think I saw a number on the order of $30 million in Federal Election Commission discussions of Steve Daines’ last campaign. 

     Even naive altar boys like myself can not believe that kind of money, lately designated as someone’s free speech, flows to an individual’s campaign, or a Senatorial Campaign Committee, absent something of the Public’s Trust being eventually exchanged. Maintaining public appearances to the contrary are lies,  and lies are the most fundamental form of betrayal. Another word for betrayer is quisling. Quisling was a Norwegian military politician, military officer and Nazi collaborator who saw himself as head of Norway during his country’s occupation by German troops during World War II. He empowered Hitler, but was without his own power, without his peoples’ trust.

    Now in Montana there will be no primary contest to select a Republican challenger to John Tester because Matt Rosendale says he “lacks resources.” He really means that his hand-picked opponent, Tim Sheehy, has behind him both the bottomless coffers of the Republican Senatorial Campaign Committee, led by Trump quisling Steve Daines, and the high plains grifter himself, Donald Trump. Unless Montana voters take back their power, controlled by money, the next election of a U.S. Senator from Montana will be a mirage of a free election, soon vanished.

     Today I feel a little wiser than I did that night on the escalator in the Grand Hyatt. As I see intelligent men and women of the Republicans Party crowd inexplicably together behind an American Fascist, I know the secret sauce that binds them is the money, or rather the fear of not having enough money, or rather the fear of not having the power that generally seems to come with all the money. The one way to break that spell is to choose candidates, Republican or Democrat, who treat campaign money as irrelevant, rather than with reverence. Each voter needs to retain his or her personal power to discern candidates who in turn remain able to serve the common good.

     My wife and I have given our $100 to John Tester’s campaign because we feel he’s done a good job and we want to do our small part to help his effort. This young fellow, Tim Sheehy, seems interesting enough and I’m glad he and his family have settled in Montana. Our generation has taken good care of this place and hope theirs will, as well. Right now, though, I think Mr. Sheehy has a lot to learn as I once did. I remember some people saying about me when I first ran for the U.S. Senate as a 31-year old House Speaker. They were right.