SIGN IN to access Harper’s Magazine
Need to create a login? Want to change your email address or password? Forgot your password?
1. Sign in to Customer Care using your account number or postal address.
2. Select Email/Password Information.
3. Enter your new information and click on Save My Changes.
Subscribers can find additional help here. Not a subscriber? Subscribe today!
indictment of Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich is getting ample attention on a number of fronts. The political entertainment value of the materials filed with the indictment, particularly including the transcripts of some internal conversations, is hard to beat. The FBI agent’s affidavit clearly furnishes the guts for a solid Broadway drama, and, who knows, maybe even a good movie.
But while Blagojevich garners withering attention, and is more properly the province of Washington Babylon, it seems to me that there is another character who requires appraisal: Patrick Fitzgerald. Scott Shane got off to a good start with a piece in yesterday’s New York Times in which he reviews Fitzgerald’s career. It made me think of a tale that an alumnus of the Southern District U.S. Attorney’s office, a contemporary of Fitzgerald’s, recounted to me recently–while acknowledging that it might be pure legend. Fitzgerald, he said, had a reputation as the most work-obsessed young assistant prosecutor on a staff of workaholics. His social life was thought to be non-existent. But once Fitzgerald invited a young woman he was dating over to his bachelor’s apartment. His date made a horrifying discovery: opening his oven, she found a dish of lasagna, covered with mold. It had evidently been sitting there for weeks. Fitzgerald, it seems, lived off of take-out and rarely spent an evening at home in his apartment.
At a time when the Department of Justice’s reputation has sunk to its modern low point, Fitzgerald stands as a model of the selfless service a rigorous and principled professional prosecutor can provide. He has tackled and excelled with difficult cases, and often enough has struck at the political world. That is shown by the three cases that form of the core of his record: the prosecution of Governor George Ryan, the investigation of the leaks that blew the cover of a CIA covert agent named Valerie Plame that later resulted in the conviction of Scooter Libby, Dick Cheney’s chief of staff, and now the indictment of Governor Ron Blagojevich, Ryan’s successor.
Fitzgerald’s handling of each of these cases reflects toughness but also a sense of all the ethical rules and concerns that Robert H. Jackson spelled out in his speech “The Federal Prosecutor.” He targets crimes, not people; he works hard to build a solid case on clear evidence. When he doesn’t have the evidence, he doesn’t bring the case–for which both Karl Rove and Dick Cheney can be thankful.
The Blagojevich indictment came down the same day another prosecuted Governor, Don Siegelman of Alabama, argued his appeal in Atlanta. These prosecutions offer a stark study in contrasts. Just as the Siegelman case demonstrates a malicious, political manipulation of the criminal justice system by prosecutors with a suspect agenda, the Blagojevich case presents a study in how a politically sensitive case is properly managed and brought to the fore. Fitzgerald’s statements as the charges were announced also offer a demonstration of understatement, focusing on the ideals to be upheld.
It seems obvious that Patrick Fitzgerald should be retained as U.S. attorney in Chicago and allowed to handle this case to its conclusion. But that’s not enough. Is there a prosecutor in the federal system who has done more to win the respect and admiration of the public than Patrick Fitzgerald? Eric Holder and Barack Obama should consider putting him in charge of the operations of the Department as Deputy Attorney General. It would send a simple, necessary message to the country: the days of politics in the administration of justice are over. The theme of the day will be professional integrity.
More from Scott Horton:
Conversation — March 30, 2016, 3:44 pm
Joseph Hickman discusses his new book, The Burn Pits, which tells the story of thousands of U.S. soldiers who, after returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, have developed rare cancers and respiratory diseases.
Freddie Gray’s relatives arrived for the trial in the afternoon, after the prep-school kids had left. By their dress, they seemed to have just gotten off work in the medical and clerical fields. The family did not appear at ease in the courtroom. They winced and dropped their heads as William Porter and his fellow officer Zachary Novak testified to opening the doors of their police van last April and finding Freddie paralyzed, unresponsive, with mucus pooling at his mouth and nose. Four women and one man mournfully listened as the officers described needing to get gloves before they could touch him.
The first of six Baltimore police officers to be brought before the court for their treatment of Freddie Gray, a black twenty-five-year-old whose death in their custody was the immediate cause of the city’s uprising last spring, William Porter is young, black, and on trial. Here in this courtroom, in this city, in this nation, race and the future seem so intertwined as to be the same thing.
Percentage of British citizens who say that Northern Ireland should remain part of the United Kingdom:
In the United Kingdom, a penis-shaped Kentish strawberry was not made by snails.
The Playboy mansion in California was bought by the heir to the Twinkie fortune, and a New Mexico man set fire to his apartment to protest his neighbors’ loud lovemaking.
Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!
“Matt was happy enough to sustain himself on the detritus of a world he saw as careening toward self-destruction, and equally happy to scam a government he despised. 'I’m glad everyone’s so wasteful,' he told me. 'It supports my lifestyle.'”