The Political Interest

By Michael Kramer

Sometimes art gets it just right. In a particularly delicious scene in The Distinguished Gentleman, the latest Hollywood film about political corruption, a lobbyist asks the movie's protagonist his position on sugar-price supports. The con artist turned Congressman (played by Eddie Murphy) has gone to Washington to commit legalized larceny, but he doesn't have a clue about sugar. Which position would prove most profitable? he wonders. It doesn't matter, Murphy is told. If he favors the program, the sugar producers will fill his campaign coffers; if he opposes it, the candy manufacturers will kick in. Similarly, Murphy is assured, he can make a bundle on either side of the medical-malpractice issue: doctors' groups and insurance companies will fund him if he supports limiting claims; the trial lawyers will be in his debt if he opposes caps. Well, asks Murphy, "if that's true, how does anything get done?" "It doesn't," the lobbyist retorts. "That's the beauty of the system."

Here, in fiction, and in less than a minute, the gridlock that has paralyzed Washington is neatly exposed: Congressmen don't have to chase money with their votes; there's so much around they can cop all they want no matter what their stance on a specific issue. "It's not that bad things happen, although they sometimes do," says Marty Kaplan, The Distinguished Gentleman's screenwriter. "It's that good things don't happen. The real story is that Washington is frozen, and a lot of people are making a killing keeping it that way." Kaplan knows the territory; during the Carter years, he was Walter Mondale's chief speechwriter. Having observed the problem at close range, Kaplan believes his engaging "entertainment" could "draw a little blood" in an era that has seen MTV and Arsenio help elect a President. "I'd like to keep the public's anger alive," says Kaplan. "This is obviously the time to get serious about campaign reform, which everyone in Washington claims to want. Maybe the film can help."

And maybe Bill Clinton can help too. Campaign reform is one of the five priorities enunciated by the President-elect following his victory. "There is a good reason public confidence in public officials is so low," Clinton has said. "It ought to be, because of the dominance of special interests over the political process and especially over the campaign-finance process. That's why I strongly support campaign-finance reform." Clinton is concerned as well because of Ross Perot. "Let's face it," says a Clinton aide, "the 20 million people who voted for Perot are the swing voters from now on, and they want reform. The burden's on us to do something real, not just cosmetic. It's a case of good policy being smart politics."

During the campaign, Clinton was fairly specific about what he favors and what he opposes. He is against term limits because he thinks "unelected staff members in the Congress have too much influence already." But Clinton knows the growing consensus for term limits can pressure other reforms, and he has repeatedly said he favors "strict controls on how much you can spend running for Congress." He has also endorsed a $1,000 limit on political-action- committ ee contributions, the same ceiling as currently exists for individual contributions. Those Clinton staff members charged with fleshing out his views hope for progress within the hallowed 100 days of F.D.R.-style action promised by the President-elect, but they have already encountered trouble. "For 12 years," says a Clinton adviser, "divided government prevented reform, and Democrats and Republicans piously blamed each other for the deadlock. The very good reform bill that passed last year made it out of the Congress only because the Democrats knew the President would veto it. Now the congressional leadership has indicated they won't go along with last year's bill because they know Clinton would sign it."

Some change is coming nevertheless, although the dream of public financing appears dead. Congress's incumbents don't want it because they won't yield the financial advantage they currently enjoy. But the voluntary caps on campaign spending that Clinton favors are likely, a reform that seems lame but could be meaningful if voters retaliate against those candidates who won't play along. Clinton's $1,000 PAC-contribution ceiling may fail -- another casualty of Congress's power -- "but we'll get it down somewhat, and maybe to the $1,000 level if the boss wants to spend some political capital making a big push for it," says one of Clinton's aides.

Whatever the outcome of the coming brawl, no reform will be cost-free. "To get anything," says a Clinton aide, "we're going to have to agree to some goodies." The most likely trade-off will involve government-mandated low rates for political advertising on television. And at the end of the day, the huge problem of "soft" money will undoubtedly survive. Wealthy donors and PACs will probably still be able to give large sums to political parties, which have been brilliant at finding legal ways to support individual candidates. The bottom line is not hopeful: unless Clinton really pushes his cause, Washington will still be a town in which Eddie Murphy's character can thrive.