Can We Trust Congress To Investigate Enron?

by John Moyers

The White House isn't happy about the hearings. On January 17, Press Secretary Ari Fleischer had the temerity to suggest that congressional curiosity is uncalled for. An incredulous reporter replied, "We should just trust you on that?"

The incident affirms the obvious -- the White House is wired to Enron. But it's not the only place in Washington that is. The company shared its fleeting wealth with some 250 friends on Capitol Hill. Many of them sit on committees now launching investigations.

You don't have to be Ralph Nader to ask: Who in Congress should recuse themselves from the investigations?

In fact, on January 20, The New York Times called for Senator Phil Gramm to disqualify himself. He sits on two important committees, Finance and Banking, that will look into the scandal; on the latter he is the ranking Republican. He's taken $97,350 from Enron, and his wife has a long association with the company, including service as a paid director.

If Gramm should recuse himself, then why not Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson, Enron's biggest friend in the Senate, who sits on Commerce. She has received $99,500 -- Gramm is ranked second. How about Senator Jeff Bingaman, chairman of the Energy and Natural Resource Committee? He's seventh in the top ten at $14,124, a relatively cheap investment for Enron, but a nice boost to anyone's political career.

When it comes to recusal, the question is not: How much money does it take to buy a politician? A better question is: How much does it take to undermine public confidence that a politician is acting in the public interest? That's a question citizens must answer for themselves, but a little number crunching adds some helpful perspective. Compare committee assignments against the handy nonpartisan contribution data at OpenSecrets.org and the result is eye-opening.

Enron's reach goes far and deep. The company's top 10 friends in the Senate benefited from contributions ranging in size from Pete Domenici's $12,000 to Hutchinson's $99,500. Each of the top 10 sits on at least one of the investigating committees, and seven out of 10 sit on two or more.

Take another look at Senator Bingaman. Besides his chairmanship, Bingaman sits on two other committees -- Finance; and Health, Education, Labor and Pensions. Former Enron employees whose retirement accounts were dashed when the company's stock crashed might reasonably ask if Bingaman should recuse himself from hearings in the latter committee.

Now look at Bingaman's Energy and Natural Resources Committee. It's packed with Enron's friends -- Conrad Burns ($23,200), Chuck Schumer ($21,933), and Gordon Smith ($18,000) among them. If Enron's top 10 Senate friends disqualified themselves, the committee would lose six of its 23 members; if Enron's top 20 Senate friends recused, the committee would lose 10 of its 23 members. If a $1,000 Enron contribution warranted recusal, no Republicans and just four Democrats would remain on Bingaman's panel. And we haven't even mentioned contributions from Enron's sidekick in this calamity, Arthur Andersen, which is nearly as big a donor as Enron.

All but two of the Banking Committee's 21 members would be eliminated if a $1,000 contribution from either Enron or Arthur Andersen triggered recusal -- senators Thomas Carper and Daniel Akaka would have the hearing room to themselves. Looked at another way, eight members of the committee are among the top 20 recipients of Enron or Anderson contributions, and six are among the top 10.

The conflict of interest is clear -- both Enron and Andersen have invested heavily in the political careers of many members of Congress who will now investigate them. Are we supposed to have confidence that there's enough independence left in the capital to protect the public interest? Washington is wired -- our public servants are privately funded by the people they're meant to oversee. They promise to get to the bottom of this mess, but an ordinary American might reasonably wonder: We should just trust them on that?

When he was a senator running for re-election in 2000, John Ashcroft took $57,000 from Enron. Now as U.S. Attorney General, he's recused himself from looking into the mess.

Who among his former congressional colleagues should follow suit? The real question is: Who shouldn't?