One of the differences in us and China….

The newspaper for Tuesday morning, August 14, 2007, announces that the Chinese manufacturer of the Elmo dolls that have been flagged as dangerous to children, causing a massive recall, has committed suicide. He went down to the plant where the toys were made and hanged himself. The paper says suicide is the common reaction in that country when officials are disgraced.

But not in the good old U.S. of A. No, sirree. Over here, we justify ourselves, minimize our acts, call our misdeeds “a mistake” and “a lapse of judgement,” and count on our naive supporters to immediately forgive us and to rail against anyone who dares call the miscreant what he is–a bum–and urge the fullest penalty the law allows.

Yesterday, in federal court on Poydras Street, Oliver Thomas, at-large councilman for New Orleans, pleaded guilty to receiving nearly $20,000 in kickbacks from Pampy Barre’ in return for his assuring that Pampy kept the contract for managing three parking lots in the Quarter. Okay, he confessed. That’s good. Something our embattled Congressman William Jefferson hasn’t had the courage to do, even though he also was nabbed red-handed with audio tapes and the bribe money in his freezer.

U.S. Federal Judge Sarah Vance gave Oliver Thomas the what-for yesterday, calling this a “body blow to a community that is already reeling under a wave of public corruption.” She added, “If this city is ever to recover, we have to have an end to this type of venality.”

(I had to look it up. Venality– a noun referring to selling one’s services for misdeeds. Corruption due to bribery.)

Which raises the question: did Thomas put so little value on his integrity that he sold it–and the public trust, not to mention his political career–for less than $20,000?

The line, quoted here a few weeks ago, from “A Man for All Seasons,” comes to mind. Thomas More says to Richard Rich, “Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world–but for Wales?”

For $20,000?

Following the appearance in federal court, the FBI guys and the U.S. Attorney, Jim Letten, held a news conference. Special agent in charge of the N.O. field office James Bernazzani tried to put this corruption case in perspective. “It’s not unique to Louisiana. It’s just brazen down here. Machine politics in the north will skim the cream. Here in Louisiana, they skim the cream, they steal the milk, hijack the bottles, and look for the cow. And it is brazen, the amount of activity down here where people think it’s their right as soon as they assume office to steal from the people.”

Mr. Letten was kinder. “I don’t call people hypocrites and I don’t label people morally. Good people every day make very, very bad mistakes and do bad things and have to be accountable to that.”

The paper described the sad spectacle of Thomas’ family and friends inside the courtroom. His father, using a walker to maneuver, wept. Others hugged and cried. As Thomas walked out of the courtroom, the group erupted into applause, probably to be understood simply as an expression of their love for him and not approval for what he had done. However, the reporter says, one woman in the crowd called out, “I am proud of you!” That’s the one that gets me.

Proud? For what? Certainly not for betraying the public trust. Proud for admitting it like a man and taking his punishment? But please note that he did not come forward with that; the law caught him and exposed him and then he confessed.

Bible students speak of two kinds of shame or sorrow for sinful deeds: a godly sorrow and a human sorrow. The human type is when you get caught red-handed, then burst into tears and say how sorry you are. Godly sorrow is when you feel remorse even though no one is accusing you and you repent and confess. Godly sorrow is the type that leads to repentance, Scripture says in Romans 7:10.

Chris Rose chimed in on all this mess in his Tuesday column. Here’s the gist of it.

“When the William Jefferson indictment came down, I admit to having very little visceral reaction. As a casual observer of Louisiana politics for the past two decades, I’d suspected that he and some of his kin were bad seeds.”

“When the (David) Vitter thing came down, all I could do was shake my head and laugh. The lurid hypocrisy of Mr. Family Values was almost too stupid to get angry about. What a loser.”

“But Oliver. What the h–l? It’s like a knife in the back.”

“I’ve known Oliver Thomas more as a friend than a politician for more than 20 years…. I had Oliver pegged as an honorable man.”

“But my (previous skepticisms about Louisiana politicians) have been largely validated over the years as I witnessed the debacles–no, the horrors–of the Morial, Jefferson, and Edwards political machines, the three insurance commissioners imprisoned since I’ve lived here, the constant parade of crooked judges, the School Board thieves, and the whole d—–d thing.”

He goes on to say, “The fat cats and grifters have been selling the city, parcel by parcel, and dividing up the profits while thousands upon thousands of residents–their constituents–live lives of squalor and lost hope, all the while thinking that guys like Oliver and whoever else are on their side.”

“If you think that there is no connection between bad politics and images of, say, 30,000 people dying of heat outside teh Convention Center two years ago, then you’re not following the bouncing ball. Voters be d—–d. They don’t have any money.”

“In other (states), corrupter is the shocker. Here, it is expectd, and that is the sad truth….”

Then Rose picks up on a thing I’ve been furious about, but have not mentioned on the blog, figuring it did not belong here. He refers to columnist James Gill’s drive to get our imprisoned former governor Edwin Edwards pardoned for his racketeering since he’s now 80 years old and has served half his sentence.

Rose says, “Another colleague at the paper–and many political leaders in the state–are finding a soft spot in their hearts for Edwin Edwards, implying that because the man is old and has served half his prison term, that he should summarily be released to live a life of genteel retirement by some pristine waters, fishing instead of mopping prison floors.”

“What a load of hooey. Edwards is lucky he didn’t spend more of his life behind bars and he should bank that when he goes to bed at night in his prison cot. The operative systems that guys like him set in place is one where their cronies–these obvious, pathetic and ill-spoken lowlifes–walk off with state and city money while the state and city fail, falter, and die.”

“And, like the scumbags they are, now they turn on each other.Pampy Barre’, a bar owner who somehow became an expert and highly paid consultant on everything from building airport runways to operating the Sewerage and Water Board, is the guy they say fingered Thomas as a way to skim off his own prison term and it just makes you want to shout.”

“A little louder now. Throw all the bums in jail, I say. Let’s clean some serious house.”

Given a choice–this is Joe speaking now–between Chris Rose’s outrage and the sentimental “I am proud of you” yelled at Thomas yesterday in the courtroom, I’ll take the outrage.

My apologies to our friends around the nation who, over the 2 years since Katrina, have railed against the political corruption of our state and city, saying we cannot be trusted with federal dollars, that congress is foolish to send truckloads of money our way.

Turns out you were right. Most of us are ashamed beyond words. Proud of Oliver Thomas? Not in a zillion years. He is what is wrong with this city and this state.

Our hope is in the outrage I am hearing. Maybe the citizens–most of them, at any rate–are tired of politics as usual and will elect decent people who will raise the bar for the rest of our leaders.