Gov. M. Jodi Rell was among those present last week as David Paterson was sworn in as governor of New York. The historic connection between the two is obvious. Both have now risen to the highest office in their states through the misconduct of the men who preceded them — their former running mates.
The fall of Eliot Spitzer was remarkably quick. Seven days after he dropped the bombshell about his involvement with prostitutes, he was persona non grata in Albany and his successor was setting a new tone.
In Paterson’s case, that’s easy, because Spitzer is leaving town with few friends and it appears fewer allies. Upon taking office, Spitzer let it be known he planned to take no prisoners when pushing his agenda. He feuded openly with the Republican leader of the Senate and when news of the scandal broke not one Democrat rushed to his defense.
Maze Of Politics
A few months ago, when Spitzer was embroiled in a controversy over his use of the state police to gather information on his political opponents, the New York Times published an interesting story on the last New York governor to be run out of town on a rail. The story was written to note the fact that Spitzer had just surpassed the tenure of former Gov. William Sulzer, who was impeached in 1913, less than ten months after taking office.
Like Spitzer, Sulzer made clear he would bully his way through the maze of Albany politics. In a pattern eerily similar to today’s headlines, the Times reports that Sulzer warned all who dared oppose him that “he was a fighter” and that anyone who attacked him would be stripped of their hide and that he would “tack the hide to the ceiling of the capitol.” Both Sulzer and Spitzer failed to understand that their election gave them authority, not free reign.
Paterson, who spent 21 years in the New York Senate, fully understands where gubernatorial authority meets practical politics. Watching his inaugural speech you could almost see a fresh breeze blowing through the House chamber as he declared, “What we are going to do from now on is what we always should have done: we are going to work together.” At that moment political knives were sheathed, at least for a while.
Rowland’s Journey
Good will, more than good policy, yields results in politics. If Spitzer had spent his first year making friends on both sides of the aisles, he might have survived the scandal that ended his tenure in less than a week. It would have been ugly, but he might have held on.
At the start of Connecticut’s biggest gubernatorial scandal, when talk of impeachment first began, state Rep. Arthur O’Neill delivered the results of his research on impeachment to Gov. John G. Rowland. O’Neill, with all the emotion of Spock, told Rowland that the evidence showed politicians are never impeached for their crimes; they are impeached when they lose political support. The only exception being Huey Long, who survived impeachment, but was later assassinated. Although the news was meant to be re-assuring, somehow, it was not.
Rowland, however, had built up enough good will over nearly 10 years in office to survive for more than a year after scandal broke. There was resistance, even from Democrats, to forming an impeachment committee. In contrast, Sulzer and Spitzer had no deposits in the good will bank. Sulzer said of his Senate trial that “a horse thief in frontier days would have received a squarer deal.” Spitzer didn’t even get a trial; he hanged with a rope of his own making.
Dean Pagani is a former gubernatorial advisor. He is V.P. of Public Affairs for Cashman and Katz Integrated Communications in Glastonbury.
