POLITICAL CRIMES, CRIMINAL POLITICS

Secretary of State Judy Moriarty stands indicted of two misdemeanors by a Cole County Grand Jury. Proceedings were initiated by Cole County Prosecuting Attorney Richard Callahan, a Democrat with a good reputation in state legal circles. She pleaded innocent this week to accusations that she illegally manipulated records of the candidacy filing of her son, who sought a seat in the state House of Representatives. (Her son, Tim Moriarty, has since withdrawn from the race.)

The day any public official faces criminal charges is a sad day for us all. In the case of Mrs. Moriarty, this is especially so given the fact that she is universally regarded as a nice person, if somewhat out of her depth in her current job.

The fact remains, however, that a major cloud now hangs over the state official whose principal charge is the honest and efficient administration of elections in Missouri. Moreover, the indictment alleges crimes that go to the heart of her official duties. And this at a time when we have biennial primary and general elections scheduled this August and November. During the administration of our two most recent Secretaries of State, Jim Kirkpatrick (1965-'85) and Roy Blunt (1985-'93), there was never any such cloud.

I wish Mrs. Moriarty well in her defense. She must not be prejudged. People who know her well say it's hard to imagine her possessing the criminal intent necessary to be convicted. She may well be acquitted. She should, however, step aside during the pendency of her case, which may well be disposed of in fewer than 60 days.

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That said, it's time for someone to call a truce in an increasingly disturbing trend: criminalizing the practice of politics. Patrick Buchanan and others have noted a disturbing trend, as our politics have increasingly taken on the character of religious wars of old. No longer does it seem enough to defeat an opponent in a fair electoral contest. Today, sadly, too often the opponent is not merely defeated, but must be hounded, investigated, ruined, even imprisoned. It is deeply and profoundly wrong for anyone, ever, to use the criminal investigative process, with its awesome power, as a political weapon.

If these are the rules of engagement, will good and talented people offer themselves for public service? The stakes in seeking office have always been high; must they be made even higher, to include the ruination of career and livelihood, reputation and family? One thing is sure: We've come a long way from the looser standards and common practices of the not-too-distant past.

A senior senate colleague of mine, a savvy Democratic pol and a good friend, described the scene for me recently. It was in the 1970s and, like this year, a campaign was raging for an open seat in the United States Senate. That fall, the entire fourth floor of the Missouri capitol, on the House side, was turned into a telephone bank for the Democratic senate nominee, with virtually all secretaries and some other staffers participating. That's right: In a government building, on state time, a telephone bank was being run using tax-paid staffers, working tax-paid phones, to elect a United States Senator. No investigation ensued; no scandal-mongering articles appeared.

Want another vignette? I arrived in Jefferson City in January 1993 after being elected the previous November. Senior colleagues informed me of what seemed an astonishing fact. They said that until about five years earlier, it was routine practice for senators of both parties to have their campaign fundraiser printing -- invitations, envelopes and what-have-you -- printed on state presses in the capitol building. This was the long-time custom, simply the way business was done in that cozy little club.

I am emphatically not saying that this all right. What I am saying is that these verified examples provide some historical context for offenses that, today, can land someone in prison.

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The biggest open secret in Missouri politics, acknowledged by Democrats, Republicans and independent commentators, is that the federal indictment of Wendell Bailey is a case of criminalized politics. Brought originally by a U.S. Attorney who had once run a political campaign for one of Bailey's opponents, the first indictment was so flawed that prosecutors themselves asked a court to dismiss it. This was soon followed by a Justice Department decision to remove the case from Springfield, where it began, to Kansas City, where it could be handled by more seasoned and competent hands.

Bailey lost the 1992 gubernatorial primary, and then went to work for an Arkansas financial concern. As soon as he was indicted, he lost that job. After 20 years in public service, he is no man of substantial means. What is the point of hounding this good and decent man? Prosecutors should quickly get to the point or drop their case. And friends who know the character of Wendell Bailey should join the many of their fellows who have rallied, financially and with moral support, to the cause of his defense.

Peter Kinder is associate publisher of the Southeast Missourian. He represents the 27th district in the Missouri Senate.