Campaign arrests reveal shift in political culture

By Robbie Dingeman
Advertiser City Hall Writer

When city department head Mike Amii was arrested last week on suspicion of theft for allegedly doing campaign work on government time, it was the clearest sign yet that a dramatic cultural shift is taking place in government offices, with more people refusing to look the other way when confronted by what they believe to be wrongdoing.

"I see a lot of arrogance in politics," said state Sen. Les Ihara. "People are blinded by this addiction to power." Advertiser library photo

And before Mansho, there was former City Council member Andy Mirikitani, convicted in federal court with the help of former employees who testified about bribes, kickbacks and other misdeeds in his office.

Government watchdogs point to increased enforcement, growing public outrage, gradual enlightenment of elected officials and the empowerment of government workers as forces behind the slow change in climate. In places where it was assumed that doing campaign work on government time was OK because "everybody does it," most everyone understands that those days are gone.

"I think there's more a general sense of disgust, and I think as a result more people are willing to come forward," said City Prosecutor Peter Carlisle, whose office prosecuted Mansho and is prosecuting Amii.

"There's more people who are sick and tired of the political culture of self-interest, a culture that kind of tolerates that kind of thing," said state Sen. Les Ihara, a Democrat who has spent 16 years in the Legislature and worked for more openness in government and campaign finance reform.

"I think the climate now is 'enough, enough already,' " Ihara said. "I see a lot of arrogance in politics. People are blinded by this addiction to power."

Staying in office, staying in power is what drives the campaign machine. At stake are not only politicians' jobs but their staffs' as well. Mansho put words to what many politicians only imply: "This is part of your job. If I don't get re-elected, you guys don't have jobs."

No one knows how many envelopes have been stuffed in government offices, how many pupus for fund-raisers were ordered on government fax machines, how many volunteers were lined up for sign-waving on government telephones, how many campaign strategy sessions were held on government time. But it started becoming clear in the mid-1990s — some say even in the last couple of years — that the rules had changed. You could no longer count on the guy down the hall or the woman in the next cubicle to give you a wink and a nod.

If a campaign issue arises, "I use my cell phone, go on lunch or wait until I'm going home to call," said a government official who has worked for the city for more than 20 years and is politically active. He asked that his name not be used because he did not want to draw attention to himself.

While it had always been said that campaign work should be kept separate, now "it's with a lot more meaning," he said.

Bob Dye, a political commentator who writes a column for The Advertiser, and worked for the administration of Mayor Frank Fasi for 10 years, said people were much too loose about mixing election strategy with the work of running the city in the 1960s and '70s.

"I can remember attending meetings during the work day at the city that concerned politics," Dye said.

But he emphasized that campaigning took place at the headquarters or at lunches at hotels.

"There wasn't this uptight thing that you can't mention politics."

Larry Meacham of Common Cause Hawai'i, a government watchdog group, said the aggressiveness of the state Campaign Spending Commission under executive director Robert Watada had been another factor in dismantling Hawai'i's inbred culture of mixing government and politics.

"There are more laws now and there is better enforcement," Meacham said. But so many people have become accustomed to using public resources for private purposes, they will have a hard time changing. "People adapt or they get zapped," he said.

Watada, who has clashed with public officials during questioning, said he is just doing his job.

"I think the commission has given me the marching orders that we're supposed to carry out the law and make sure everybody else follows the law. That's what the Constitution is all about," Watada said. "I don't care if it's been going on for a long time. It's wrong."

Watada said he had seen the recent shift in elected officials and public employees who once followed a "don't ask, don't tell" strategy but now believe "nobody's above the law."

Chuck Totto, executive director of the city Ethics Commission, said it is not laws but atmosphere that has changed. His agency has given ethics training to 1,300 city workers in less than two years.

"The lines are not blurred. They're very, very clear. Political activities have no place in city government at any level," Totto said. "We're drawing a very bright line."

State Ethics Commission Executive Director Dan Mollway said he had seen an obvious change from 15 years ago, when "it seemed that there was a lot of widespread campaigning going on."

In the last two years, Mollway said, he has noticed more awareness in legislative offices about the legal and ethical concerns related to campaigning, but he doesn't know what triggered the change.

"It has finally occurred to them that this is really for real, it's not trivial and it will get you into serious trouble," he said.

But he also believes some of the campaigning simply went underground, and a few officials continue to violate the law.

"They're kind of cavalier about it," Mollway said. "I think a lot of them think they are above the law."

Reach Robbie Dingeman at rdingeman@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8070.