Illinois: The High Cost of Politics

The corridor of Chicago's Federal Building might have been a political headquarters on a winning election night. Supporters cheered, klieg lights glared, and there was even a victory statement. Said Illinois' former Republican Governor (1953-61) William G. Stratton: "I never went through a tougher campaign."

Stratton had won perhaps the most important vote of his life: a federal-court jury, after a 91-week trial, acquitted him of income tax evasion charges that could have jailed him for 20 years.

In court, Stratton often acted more like a candidate than a potential convict, waving to friends, shaking hands all around, and at one point drawing a rebuke from Judge Hubert L. Will for "grimacing, smiling, gesticulating." Warned Judge Will, in a somewhat inept classical allusion: "I don't want you sitting there like a sphinx, but I don't want you playing Hamlet either." Yet for all the histrionics, the basics of the trial consisted of two questions intimately related to American politics: What constitutes a political contribution? What constitutes a political expense?

Merry Christmas. Last year Stratton was indicted on charges of failing to report $93,595 in income from 1957 through 1960. The prosecution suggested that the unreported money consisted of political contributions, mostly in cash, diverted to personal use. Under a 1954 Internal Revenue Service ruling, such money is taxable. The defense did not deny that Stratton had spent more than his reported income but argued that the extra amount came either from 1) unrestricted gifts, which are not taxable, or 2) campaign funds that were spent on valid political expenses.

Parading 27 witnesses to the stand, the defense sought to show that Stratton received repeated donations that could not be classified as political contributions, because they had no strings attached. Julius Klein, a Chicago public relations man, testified that just before Stratton lost to present Governor Otto Kerner, Klein told Stratton: "Bill, you're not going to win. You'll need this money after the election. Here's $1,000." Andrew Fasseas, a Chicago financier who was once Stratton's state-revenue director, said that every Christmas he handed Stratton's wife Shirley an envelope containing $500 or $700 in cash, while Stratton stood near by. Stratton's physician said that he twice gave Stratton $500 as a "personal gift."

Boat & Bungalow. Stratton did not testify, but in the transcript of an interview with IRS agents, read to the jury, he said that he would "probably find $1,000 or $2,000 in Christmas and birthday cards, some of it from people you never even heard of." And regarding money that he deemed political contributions, he denied converting it to his personal use. Said Stratton: "I wouldn't say it would be mine in the sense that I could use it for my personal benefit. I could use it for promotion or to enhance my political career."