Specifically, the AG “committed a criminal violation of 1 CMC sec. 534 (b) by using public time, personnel, and equipment for political campaign activities, and such use was not authorized by law as incidental to other lawful conduct. Additionally, the AG committed a criminal violation of 1 CMC sec. 6705 by using the name of a government agency or department to campaign for a candidate for public office.”
The public auditor, however, recommended official public censure and release of the report as sanctions against the chief law enforcement officer of the CNMI instead of prosecution as the means with which to restore public confidence in government. Not surprisingly, neither recommendation was adopted by the governor who had already cleared his AG of any wrongdoing even before the report was submitted to him last December.
The AG maintains that people of fair minds will judge the facts differently, meaning in a way that exonerates him. Who are those people? He could, however, put the facts out there for an independent assessment conducted by a special prosecutor, but he prefers that we simply take his word for it.
The AG, in any case, has nothing to fear. There will be no public censure. He may even keep his job (although there is a rumor that it may soon be given to someone with a large family of CNMI voters). There is no shame as a result of his conduct. No one will remember that he was even here when he boards the plane to retire on the mainland.
There is a lot to be said for shame factor in deterring criminal conduct, but what value does it have in a community that tolerates shamelessness?
A turtle poacher, a litter bug, a white collar criminal, a wife beater, a thief — all they have to do, it seems, is to make a cursory apology. For some, however, the punishment is difficult and completely appropriate. But for the many others, it is meaningless.
This is the confused social context in which punishment is measured and meted out in the CNMI. It is a disturbing development that citizens must ponder along with every other big change taking place in this once vibrant community.
Death of a pension fund
SENATOR Ayuyu says he did not vote for P.L. 17-51 which permits everyone to sue everyone, and has introduced a bill to repeal it in response to the wholesale termination of all of the Retirement Fund’s advisory contracts. To explain why they passed the controversial law, its defenders point out that the Fund “will be gone in three years anyway even if its advisors stick around.” But this line of argument merely illustrates even more why all these advisors are necessary.
Even if the Fund is already “dying,” the government should still ensure the fairest distribution of assets in an orderly way to avoid panic and widespread fear. The Fund has collapsed because governors stopped remitting the government’s contributions and Fund trustee members, who are the chief executive’s political supporters, looked the other way. It didn’t help that lawmakers added benefits and beneficiaries without regard to the Fund’s ability to make payments. Then the government created an alternative pension plan that allowed employees to manage their own accounts and make lower contributions, which diverted revenue that could have supported current pensioners. Now no pension bond can rescue the Fund because there is no money for a pension bond, and no one wants to support the current level of benefits paid to so many without corollary cuts to government operations. No one.
