THE CONVICTION of lobbyist Bruce Bereano on such dippy charges as mail fraud raises the question: If he'd used FedEx or UPS would there have been grounds for indictment?
How a judge viewed the presentation of evidence one way and the jury another is one of the great bafflements of Bereano's plight. But for a good night's sleep on the part of U. S. District Court Judge William M. Nickerson, Bereano almost beat the rap. Judge Nickerson was about to toss the case and the prosecutors out of his courtroom for lack of evidence.
But blue-collar juries bristle when they hear talk of big money. And Bereano's predicament is not so much the prospect of working in a federal laundry but rather what other lobbyists will do to his client list. Nothing comes between good friends like good money.
What Bereano has done for Maryland, however, is something Common Cause and 188 members of the General Assembly have been unable to do. Because of his conviction, the rules of politics may no longer be the rules of the marketplace. His conviction will help rewrite the laws of lobbying that he fought to protect.
The next General Assembly is likely to tighten the screws in three broad areas affecting lobbyists and legislators alike -- gift disclosure, the role of lobbyists in campaign financing and fund-raising and a lengthening of the statute of limitations on campaign contributions violations.
One area of action is the proposal to force more accountability in lobbyists' gift-giving to legislators. It would apply the same reporting procedures to lobbyists as to lawmakers and eliminate the $15 loophole from the present law whereby lobbyists are not required to report any gift under that amount. A competing idea is to eliminate gifts altogether.
In the catchpenny world of politics, another area of attention is the role of lobbyists in campaign fund-raising. Under present law, lobbyists are prohibited from establishing political action committees or advising other PACs on the distribution of largess to legislators and candidates.
But the reverse of the order is the complaint by lobbyists that legislators send them swatches of fund-raising tickets. So there's a move to prevent lawmakers from sending fund-raising tickets to registered lobbyists.
Bereano avoided prosecution by the state because the one-year statute of limitations on campaign contributions. The limit should be extended to, say, three or five years.
Only two years ago the leadership of the General Assembly put Bereano out of the PAC business. Through his Bereano PAC and a dozen others like it that he controlled, the million-dollar lobbyist was amassing too much vote-pulling power by infusing legislators' campaigns with generous donations.
The General Assembly passed a law that prohibits lobbyists from any involvement with PACs, bans soliciting contributions for members of the General Assembly and prohibits transmitting money to members of the General Assembly.
Lobbying in Annapolis is big business. Although Bereano is only one of many, no one has been more successful at it than he.
In the bad old days, there were half a dozen lobbyists working the halls of the State House. As of the Oct. 31 this year, there were 489 lobbyists representing 734 clients.
Mr. Bereano alone reported representing 50 clients. Together the lobbyists reported doing more than $12 million in business.
The lobbying game began to flourish in the late 1970s and early 1980s as a result of massive federal deregulation, which shifted many regulatory powers back to the states. The power shift forced interest groups to hire lobbyists to fight their battles in 50 state houses instead of in the Congress.
Mr. Bereano was the first lobbyist to break the $1 million barrier. His roster has included as many as 63 clients and his financial reports to the State Ethics Commission show that he regularly earns about triple the fees of his closest competitor.
He's also the most flamboyant lobbyist in the capital, and he became so by defying the unspoken rules and conventions of lobbying. He sponsored lavish parties for legislators, sent lawmakers boxes of cigars and sent his favorite secretaries boxes of chocolates on Valentine's day. Bereano once even persuaded the late rock musician Frank Zappa to come to Annapolis to testify on behalf of one of his clients, the Recording Industry Association of America.
Bereano learned early in his career that the common denominator in government and politics is money. Nowhere were his energy and extravagance more visible than in fund-raising.
He raised and contributed hundreds of thousands of dollars over the years for federal and state candidates through the purchase and sale of tickets to fund-raisers and fund-raising events at his waterfront home in Annapolis, controlling PACs and distributing contributions on behalf of his clients.
So in a sense, it was the influence Bereano was able to buy and peddle that eventually cost him his influence. And maybe his livelihood.
Frank A. DeFilippo writes on Maryland politics from Owings Mills.