The arrest of state Sen. Malcolm Smith and then Assemblyman Eric Stevenson on bribery and corruption charges has focused public attention on legislative malfeasance. They are the latest in a series of legislators tainted by ethics charges.
"Many may understandably fear that there is no vote that is not for sale, no office without a price, and no official clean of corruption," says U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara.
That is a sweeping and exaggerated indictment of New York politics. Political corruption is actually no worse than it was often in the past.
In 1910, Republican Jotham P. Allds of Norwich was elected Senate majority leader. In a private meeting with a few colleagues before the vote, another senator, Benn Conger, said that Allds had taken a bribe in 1901, when both had been in the Assembly, to kill a bill.
Conger's accusation was meant to be confidential. But a senator who heard the accusation leaked it to the New York Evening Post.
Conger expressed outrage that his charge leaked out. "Joe [Allds] is a pretty good fellow," he told reporters. "Why, that matter ... was a drop in the bucket compared to some of the things that were being pulled off at Albany in those days."
He described "strike" bills —regulatory proposals introduced in every legislative session solely to solicit bribes from affected businesses to kill the bills in committee.
"Strike bills were being introduced on all sides. It was blackmail all along the line," he said. "It was a question of pay, pay, pay."
Amid cries of public outrage, the Senate launched an investigation. Conger testified that his late brother Frank, an official with the American Bridge Co., had tried to head off a 1901 bill that would have restricted local officials' power to negotiate bridge construction contracts. Frank Conger met with Allds, chairman of the powerful Assembly rules committee.
"You'll have to take care of us," Allds warned.
He asked for $5,000 for himself and committee members.
Conger said that was too much money. Allds offered a compromise: He would use his position as chair to kill the bill, for $1,000.
Frank Conger sent an assistant, Hiram Moe, to Albany with four envelopes of money, one with $1,000 for Allds. Benn Conger introduced Moe to Allds, who furtively led them to a meeting room near the Assembly chamber. Moe handed over the envelope.
"I guess it's all right, Conger, it feels good," said Allds, slipping it into his pocket.
The bill never reached the Assembly floor. Conger and Moe refused to say directly who got the other three money envelopes but Conger intimated that one went to S. Fred Nixon, Assembly speaker at the time.
Conger also revealed bridge company bribes to the Republican state party chairman.
The Senate found Allds guilty of bribery. He resigned his seat in March but was never prosecuted. Senators pressured whistle-blower Benn Conger into resigning in April.
Republican Governor Charles Evans Hughes was outraged over the Allds affair. He proposed a reformer as Allds' successor as Senate leader, but the Legislature's choice was a man who promised business as usual.
The governor demanded a broad legislative investigation of political corruption. Both houses refused. Hughes pushed a direct primary bill as a way of cleaning up politics, but the Legislature thwarted him there, too. In the summer, a state Insurance Department investigation kicked off another scandal with revelations of bribery of legislators by insurance companies.
News accounts noted that bribery for "bill-killing and law-getting" was a common practice in the Legislature.
Frustrated and tired, Hughes left New York in the fall to accept an appointment to the Supreme Court.
Voters, fed up with corruption, elected a Democratic governor and legislative majority in the fall 1910 elections.
For a couple of years, the Democrats mostly delivered on their campaign promise of clean government. But in 1913, Democratic Gov. William Sulzer accused legislative leaders and state party boss Charles Murphy of corruption. A legislative investigation revealed that Sulzer had pocketed campaign contributions, a violation of state law. He was impeached and removed from office.
Fed up again with political corruption, voters elected a Republican governor and legislative majority in 1914.
Ninety-nine years later, Gov. Andrew Cuomo, a Democrat, is on an ethics crusade. "I want to strike while the iron is hot," he says. "A crisis is a terrible thing to waste."
History suggests that ethics reform is needed from time to time. But making reform stick is never easy.
Bruce Dearstyne lives in Guilderland. He was a professor and is now an adjunct professor at the University of Maryland. He also was a program director at the New York State Archives.