Posted by
john prange on Thursday, July 29, 2010 6:43:53 AM
Why don't our millionaire congressmen give some of their own wealth?
Before he died at the Alamo, Davy Crockett served a couple of terms as a congressman from Tennessee. One day Congress, after a quantity of pompous speeches, was on the verge of passing a bill to grant $10,000 to the widow of a naval officer. But then it was Crockett's turn to speak. He said they could not appropriate that money without the "grossest corruption" as the Constitution gave them no "semblance of authority" to spend the public's money, much of it obtained from people worse off than the widow, on charity.
"Mr. Speaker," Crockett concluded, "We have the right to spend as much of our own money as we please. I am the poorest man on this floor, but I will give one week's pay to the object, and if every member of Congress will do the same, it will amount to more than the bill asks."
Nobody took Crockett up on his suggestion that they contribute their own money to the charity that was so easy to support with other people's money. But most of them were sufficiently shamed to withdraw their support from the bill, and it was defeated. Afterwards a reporter, outraged at the bill's defeat, asked Crockett what had possessed him to make that speech.
Crockett explained that he had been enlightened one day by a farmer he encountered while out campaigning for reelection.
"Don't waste your time," the farmer, Horatio Bunce, told Crockett. He said he had voted for Crockett the last time, but would not do so again. Stunned, Crockett asked him what was the matter.
"You gave a vote last winter which shows that either you have not the capacity to understand the Constitution or that you are wanting in honesty or firmness to be guided by it," Bunce responded. He was referring to Crockett's support of a bill which gave $20,000 to people whose homes had been damaged by a fire in Georgetown.
"But certainly nobody will complain that a great and rich country like ours should give the insignificant sum of $20,000 to relieve the suffering of women and children," said Crockett in defense of his vote.
"It is not the amount that I complain of," Bunce emphasized. "It is the principle. If you had the right to give anything, the amount was just a matter of discretion with you, and you had as much right to give $20 million as $20,000 . . . and, as the Constitution neither defines charity nor stipulates the amount, you are at liberty to give to any and everything which you may believe, or profess to believe, is a charity."
Bunce advised Crockett that his vote was a violation of the Constitution "fraught with danger" for the future of the country as it opened the door wide for corruption and favoritism on the one hand, and stealing from the people on the other. Bunce helped Crockett see his mistake, and Crockett was honest enough to then go around the district and admit his mistake to as many of his constituents as he could reach. And he got reelected.
Nearly 200 years later, it does not take a magnifying glass to see that the integrity of Bunce and Crockett did not prevail for long. The door to corruption and favoritism has been kicked off its hinges and through it has been flowing a torrent of congressional sleaze that is today choking our liberty and drowning us in debt.
According to a report released last November by the Center for Responsive Politics (CRP), 237 congressmen are millionaires; about one percent of Americans are millionaires compared to 44 percent of their representatives in Washington. In some cases, according to CRP spokesman Dave Levinthal, their wealth "is derived from the very companies that in many cases benefit from the taxpayers." He added that many of the companies in which congressmen invest, such as Bank of America and Goldman-Sachs, "received billions and billions of dollars from you and me."
Wouldn't it have been inspiring, for instance, to see Nancy Pelosi, among the 25 richest in Congress, offering to donate some of her own money, and inviting her colleagues to do the same, to start a trust fund to help poor people get medical care? No doubt thousands, if not millions, of Americans would follow such a shining example and add their own voluntary contributions to said fund. But for Congress, giving their own money to a cause is a not as easy as giving ours.
As Davy Crockett put it, "There are in the House some very wealthy men . . . Yet not one of them responded to my proposition" to give their own money to help the widow. "Money with them," he continued "is nothing but trash when it is to come out of the people. But it is the one great thing for which most of them are striving, and many of them sacrifice honor, integrity, and justice to get it."
But if we look closely enough, we can always find reason for optimism. Through the sleaze, some flowers have blossomed. Since the bank bailouts began, America has sprouted an impressive array of Horatio Bunces. Now if we can just get some Davy Crocketts elected to Congress.
.
Before he died at the Alamo, Davy Crockett served a couple of terms as a congressman from Tennessee. One day Congress, after a quantity of pompous speeches, was on the verge of passing a bill to grant $10,000 to the widow of a naval officer. But then it was Crockett's turn to speak. He said they could not appropriate that money without the "grossest corruption" as the Constitution gave them no "semblance of authority" to spend the public's money, much of it obtained from people worse off than the widow, on charity.
"Mr. Speaker," Crockett concluded, "We have the right to spend as much of our own money as we please. I am the poorest man on this floor, but I will give one week's pay to the object, and if every member of Congress will do the same, it will amount to more than the bill asks."
Nobody took Crockett up on his suggestion that they contribute their own money to the charity that was so easy to support with other people's money. But most of them were sufficiently shamed to withdraw their support from the bill, and it was defeated. Afterwards a reporter, outraged at the bill's defeat, asked Crockett what had possessed him to make that speech.
Crockett explained that he had been enlightened one day by a farmer he encountered while out campaigning for reelection.
"Don't waste your time," the farmer, Horatio Bunce, told Crockett. He said he had voted for Crockett the last time, but would not do so again. Stunned, Crockett asked him what was the matter.
"You gave a vote last winter which shows that either you have not the capacity to understand the Constitution or that you are wanting in honesty or firmness to be guided by it," Bunce responded. He was referring to Crockett's support of a bill which gave $20,000 to people whose homes had been damaged by a fire in Georgetown.
"But certainly nobody will complain that a great and rich country like ours should give the insignificant sum of $20,000 to relieve the suffering of women and children," said Crockett in defense of his vote.
"It is not the amount that I complain of," Bunce emphasized. "It is the principle. If you had the right to give anything, the amount was just a matter of discretion with you, and you had as much right to give $20 million as $20,000 . . . and, as the Constitution neither defines charity nor stipulates the amount, you are at liberty to give to any and everything which you may believe, or profess to believe, is a charity."
Bunce advised Crockett that his vote was a violation of the Constitution "fraught with danger" for the future of the country as it opened the door wide for corruption and favoritism on the one hand, and stealing from the people on the other. Bunce helped Crockett see his mistake, and Crockett was honest enough to then go around the district and admit his mistake to as many of his constituents as he could reach. And he got reelected.
Nearly 200 years later, it does not take a magnifying glass to see that the integrity of Bunce and Crockett did not prevail for long. The door to corruption and favoritism has been kicked off its hinges and through it has been flowing a torrent of congressional sleaze that is today choking our liberty and drowning us in debt.
According to a report released last November by the Center for Responsive Politics (CRP), 237 congressmen are millionaires; about one percent of Americans are millionaires compared to 44 percent of their representatives in Washington. In some cases, according to CRP spokesman Dave Levinthal, their wealth "is derived from the very companies that in many cases benefit from the taxpayers." He added that many of the companies in which congressmen invest, such as Bank of America and Goldman-Sachs, "received billions and billions of dollars from you and me."
Wouldn't it have been inspiring, for instance, to see Nancy Pelosi, among the 25 richest in Congress, offering to donate some of her own money, and inviting her colleagues to do the same, to start a trust fund to help poor people get medical care? No doubt thousands, if not millions, of Americans would follow such a shining example and add their own voluntary contributions to said fund. But for Congress, giving their own money to a cause is a not as easy as giving ours.
As Davy Crockett put it, "There are in the House some very wealthy men . . . Yet not one of them responded to my proposition" to give their own money to help the widow. "Money with them," he continued "is nothing but trash when it is to come out of the people. But it is the one great thing for which most of them are striving, and many of them sacrifice honor, integrity, and justice to get it."
But if we look closely enough, we can always find reason for optimism. Through the sleaze, some flowers have blossomed. Since the bank bailouts began, America has sprouted an impressive array of Horatio Bunces. Now if we can just get some Davy Crocketts elected to Congress.
.
Why don't our millionaire congressmen give some of their own wealth? or
We need more Davy Crocketts in Congress
by John Prange
Before he died at the Alamo, Davy Crockett served a couple of terms as a congressman from Tennessee. One day Congress, after a quantity of pompous speeches, was on the verge of passing a bill to grant $10,000 to the widow of a naval officer. But then it was Crockett's turn to speak. He said they could not appropriate that money without the "grossest corruption" as the Constitution gave them no "semblance of authority" to spend the public's money, much of it obtained from people worse off than the widow, on charity.
"Mr. Speaker," Crockett concluded, "We have the right to spend as much of our own money as we please. I am the poorest man on this floor, but I will give one week's pay to the object, and if every member of Congress will do the same, it will amount to more than the bill asks."
Nobody took Crockett up on his suggestion that they contribute their own money to the charity that was so easy to support with other people's money. But most of them were sufficiently shamed to withdraw their support from the bill, and it was defeated. Afterwards a reporter, outraged at the bill's defeat, asked Crockett what had possessed him to make that speech.
Crockett explained that he had been enlightened one day by a farmer he encountered while out campaigning for reelection.
"Don't waste your time," the farmer, Horatio Bunce, told Crockett. He said he had voted for Crockett the last time, but would not do so again. Stunned, Crockett asked him what was the matter.
"You gave a vote last winter which shows that either you have not the capacity to understand the Constitution or that you are wanting in honesty or firmness to be guided by it," Bunce responded. He was referring to Crockett's support of a bill which gave $20,000 to people whose homes had been damaged by a fire in Georgetown.
"But certainly nobody will complain that a great and rich country like ours should give the insignificant sum of $20,000 to relieve the suffering of women and children," said Crockett in defense of his vote.
"It is not the amount that I complain of," Bunce emphasized. "It is the principle. If you had the right to give anything, the amount was just a matter of discretion with you, and you had as much right to give $20 million as $20,000 . . . and, as the Constitution neither defines charity nor stipulates the amount, you are at liberty to give to any and everything which you may believe, or profess to believe, is a charity."
Bunce advised Crockett that his vote was a violation of the Constitution "fraught with danger" for the future of the country as it opened the door wide for corruption and favoritism on the one hand, and stealing from the people on the other. Bunce helped Crockett see his mistake, and Crockett was honest enough to then go around the district and admit his mistake to as many of his constituents as he could reach. And he got reelected.
Nearly 200 years later, it does not take a magnifying glass to see that the integrity of Bunce and Crockett did not prevail for long. The door to corruption and favoritism has been kicked off its hinges and through it has been flowing a torrent of congressional sleaze that is today choking our liberty and drowning us in debt.
According to a report released last November by the Center for Responsive Politics (CRP), 237 congressmen are millionaires; about one percent of Americans are millionaires compared to 44 percent of their representatives in Washington. In some cases, according to CRP spokesman Dave Levinthal, their wealth "is derived from the very companies that in many cases benefit from the taxpayers." He added that many of the companies in which congressmen invest, such as Bank of America and Goldman-Sachs, "received billions and billions of dollars from you and me."
Wouldn't it have been inspiring, for instance, to see Nancy Pelosi, among the 25 richest in Congress, offering to donate some of her own money, and inviting her colleagues to do the same, to start a trust fund to help poor people get medical care? No doubt thousands, if not millions, of Americans would follow such a shining example and add their own voluntary contributions to said fund. But for Congress, giving their own money to a cause is a not as easy as giving ours.
As Davy Crockett put it, "There are in the House some very wealthy men . . . Yet not one of them responded to my proposition" to give their own money to help the widow. "Money with them," he continued "is nothing but trash when it is to come out of the people. But it is the one great thing for which most of them are striving, and many of them sacrifice honor, integrity, and justice to get it."
But if we look closely enough, we can always find reason for optimism. Through the sleaze, some flowers have blossomed. Since the bank bailouts began, America has sprouted an impressive array of Horatio Bunces. Now if we can just get some Davy Crocketts elected to Congress.
.