From the Chicago Sun-Times

No flattering angles in this portrait of Ryan

January 6, 2005

Was George Ryan a shamefully corrupt secretary of state who put the interests of his own people ahead of the interests of the people he served? Did he, in a profane exchange, tell a state's attorney to back off "my guys"? Or was he basically a decent guy who went along with the old ways of payoffs and favors that long defined life in Springfield? Or have prosecutors got it all wrong? Those, of course, are questions for a jury to decide. And the former governor and Larry Warner, his co-defendant in the federal racketeering case scheduled to go to trial in March, are innocent until proven guilty. Still, the 114-page document outlining the government's case against Ryan that was unsealed by a federal judge Tuesday paints a pretty abysmal picture -- one similar to the culture of ripping off the taxpayers that characterizes most government corruption cases.
Once again, we see prosecutors parading before us a gallery of double-dealing, self-serving individuals who are accused of having benefitted from scratching the backs of high office holders and being scratched in return. Among them: Warner, portrayed as a supremely arrogant Ryan adviser who allegedly sponged money from companies dealing with him; Ron Swanson, a lobbyist friend of Ryan who lied to a grand jury about a job at McCormick Place, and, of course, Scott Fawell, Ryan's now-jailed right hand man, who turned on his former boss in hopes a judge will show leniency to the woman he loves, also caught up in this corruption case.
One thing that pierces this veil of familiarity is the revelation of how relatively meager the illicit rewards Ryan allegedly received were. We think of political scandals as featuring envelopes stuffed with cash, exorbitant expenses, mistresses kept quiet. What Ryan got, according to the charges, were things for his family: He and his wife allegedly receiv ed a free vacation in Cancun, money to gamble at Lake Tahoe and various gifts; a daughter allegedly got thousands of dollars from Warner for flooding repairs, and other relatives are said to have received sizable loans without having to repay them. There's no allegation that corruption made Ryan a wealthy man.
One surprise to those following this scandal are the allegations placing Ryan at the center of the corruption, issuing directives to help out Warner. The prosecutors show Ryan risking so much for so little. Possibly he thought these schemes didn't incur any risk, that everyone knew this was the way state politics worked.
One can only hope in light of Illinois' recently passed ethics law, as well as other reforms instituted during the Blagojevich era, that the Ryan era and all it represents are behind us. For the first time, the state has executive inspectors general with broad subpoena powers and the oversight to investigate complaints. Not for the first time -- and, alas, possibly not the last -- Illinois may see a former high-ranking official go to prison