Go to Campaign Finance Report

Money Talks, And Parties, at GOP Gala

Forget all that dour talk of the corrupting effect of cash on the American political system. Campaign money is good: The more the better! Last night, the Republicans were rolling in dough, and loving it. They were unapologetic, rapturous even, at having raked in more than $11 million at the annual Republican National Committee gala.

The 1,500 tuxedoed big-deal donors and lobbyists heartily applauded the "wonderful news" as announced by gala chairman Ted Welch. He reported that the RNC's take is nearly three times the amount raised by the Democrats at their annual national fund-raiser two weeks ago. "The Democrats raised $4 million -- so we have a lot to cheer for," Welch bellowed.

GOP luminaries including former presidential running mates Bob Dole and Jack Kemp offered their deepest thanks. Speakers extolled the generosity of the assembled, who raised up to $250,000 to buy seats at the tables closest to the front of the Washington Hilton ballroom. (The ordinary folk paid $1,000 a plate.)

"I'm proud that this party is so strong," said Dole. "The Republican Party's finest hour is not a memory but a hope." Dole received a standing ovation and, as usual, got off a good gibe: "Someone asked, `Why aren't you wearing a tux?' I said, `Oh, I loaned it to Newt Gingrich.' " Just add the tux rental fee to the $300,000, Mr. Speaker.

New Jersey Gov. Christine Todd Whitman didn't try to be funny. She took a swipe at those greedy Democrats: "As Republicans, we honor the spirit of Abraham Lincoln by putting a premium on his beliefs, not a price on his bedroom."

But what was last night's event all about if not selling political access to the highest bidder -- though the Republicans can't offer a White House coffee and sleepover. RNC contributors who raised a quarter-million bucks were anointed "co-chairmen" and allowed to dine at the dais in the company of Gingrich and Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott. They enjoyed a photo session and breakfast with the pair earlier in the day, as well as lunch with the Senate or House committee chairman "of your choice," according to party literature.

One way to reach these rarefied levels of access was to hit up lobbyists and get them to sponsor a number of tables. The Amway Corp. and Philip Morris Cos. were among last night's "co-chairmen."

"It's a fund-raiser, just like the Democrats have fund-raisers," said Ron Patton, a Houston rancher who proudly displayed his gold Republican Eagle lapel pin. And how much does it cost to fly with the Eagles?

"I'm not really sure," he demurred. "My sense is that it's [pause] about $15,000 a year."

His wife, Donna Fite, an emergency room physician, said the money is well spent because "we are so concerned about America." In her view, the Democrats' policies encourage youth gangs and government giveaways for drug addicts. "We struggle to make that $15,000 a year [donation] as Eagles. We're not all big spenders. We don't have a big corporation."

Her husband, spiffy in a star-spangled bow tie, snapped a photo of Sen. Don Nickles of Oklahoma as he paused in the ballroom lobby. "Thanks for coming," the senator told the couple.

Members of Congress were the evening's honored guests. Many didn't bother with tuxedos. Rep. Charles Taylor of North Carolina came in the usual congressman's dark suit and wasn't a bit shy, jabbing his finger into a reporter's press badge.

"It says `press,' " he laughed. Any comment, sir, on all this bad news about money and politics? Taylor smiled and said, not too cryptically: "I like pull."

There are, of course, ongoing efforts in Congress to overhaul the campaign financing system. But for some reason those bills aren't exactly sailing through the legislative process.

"I think it's more important to figure out how to enforce the laws we have than to add to the laws we've got," offered Rep. Roy Blunt of Missouri, picking up his "Special Guest" name tag. After that sound bite he held up his ID for closer inspection: "You got that?"

While speakers extolled the tax-cutting, family-preserving programs of the Grand Old Party, gray-haired lobbyist Lloyd Duxbury took a smoke break and reminisced about the old days -- back in '72, when the first wave of campaign reform hit: "We had to get rid of all of our money by midnight -- I ran around all day handing out money." To whom? "To members of Congress!"

Today Duxbury represents the Committee to Preserve Social Security and Medicare, and he laments what the "reformed" system has become. "That law was designed to clean it up. But the big problem is this massive amount of soft money. There are just no limitations on it."

For about an hour, some 60 demonstrators from Public Citizen and Common Cause tried futilely to shame the arriving Republicans for staging their money-raising dinner party. "Corruption, bribery, democracy for sale!" chanted one man with a bullhorn. "$250,000 a table!"

Demian Larry, dressed in a "Fat Cat" costume, complete with rubber cigar jammed in his puss, arrived in a red convertible and promptly was barred from entering the Hilton. He stood near the driveway shaking trash bags full of phony money, while colleagues exhorted, "Just say no to fat-cat dough."

Was he being paid for his act?

"A standard day's wage," Larry, 27, a researcher for the Public Citizen organization, replied through his mask. "I'm doing because I want to do it." He checked his watch. "I'm not getting paid overtime."

Inside, some Republicans complained that the protesters were playing partisan politics themselves because they hadn't shown up at the DNC's big money-grubbing gala on May 1. "We just didn't get it together," said Bob Schiff, staff attorney for Public Citizen. "We didn't see it as a big priority because President Clinton has endorsed campaign finance reform. We plan to protest Democratic events in the future and we have in the past."

Schiff also offered a practical explanation: "You can't protest every single fund-raiser in this town. They're doing it day in and day out."