Columnist Jon Ralston: History unfolding in Capitol

Friday, Dec. 3, 2004 | 6:17 a.m.

Jon Ralston hosts the news discussion program Face to Face on Las Vegas ONE and publishes the Ralston Report. He can be reached at (702) 870-7997 or at ralston@vegas.com.

WEEKEND EDITION

December 4 - 5, 2004

CARSON CITY -- On the fourth floor of the Legislative Building, 21 angry men and women are sitting in judgment of an angry woman, all of them wondering why they are here and pining to be anywhere but here.

I'll tell you why they are here: They are here because Controller Kathy Augustine may be the most universally disliked public officer in Nevada annals. They are here because she treated her employees like indentured servants and they finally resigned or struck back or both. And they are here because after the attorney general threatened her with criminal charges for having her constitutional office double as a campaign office, Augustine chose to take her chances with a jury of her elected peers in a process (impeachment) that is more political than legal.

This has been one of those unique and paradoxical events: A history-making, watershed moment (the first impeachment of a state officeholder) that the public surely could care less about. The state controller actually controls virtually nothing; it is an anachronistic position that should long ago have been absorbed into the treasurer's office. But as a statewide office, it holds potential for an ambitious politician, which is clearly what the former assemblywoman and former state senator was as she planned her path to power leading to Capitol Hill.

By the time you read this, the impeachment trial may be over -- I am writing this Friday afternoon as the defense may be poised to ask the Gang of 21 to dismiss the charges. Whether or not it is over, Augustine will keep her job, as it has become clear that a majority, much less the needed two-thirds, of the senators do not believe they should set the impeachment bar at inducing or intimidating employees to do campaign work on state time.

There is no doubt that this occurred. But what is also not in doubt is that some of these employees, after being subjected to "The Wrath of Kath" that included temper tantrums and papers thrown around, decided that they would try to derail Augustine before she could run for Congress because she was "too good for this hick, little state," as one of her employees quoted her as saying.

The spectacle has been difficult to take seriously, although many of the senators have asked piercing questions and taken their constitutional responsibility to heart.

The witnesses against Augustine generally were shaky -- surely because the controller was only a few feet away and because it was an inherently uncomfortable position, but also because their complaints seemed, as one senator described it, to be "the biggest catfight in state history."

That may unfairly trivialize it because Augustine clearly was, as Sen. Bob Beers once described her in an understatement, "a demanding and ungrateful boss." But some of the testimony was surreal and downright silly. There was chatter about the controller's "big hair" and her refusal to let one of her employees use the bathroom (I'm surprised they didn't use the word "potty") and her just being a cold, mean human being.

It was embarrassing for everyone -- for the employees, for Augustine and for the senators who supposedly are invested here with some august and noble purpose. This is where the bar is going to be set?

The prosecution's case also was eviscerated Friday by a ruling from Legislative Counsel Brenda Erdoes that the central "political" function one employee performed was permissible -- filling out a campaign reporting form. Erdoes argued that there is a state interest in disclosure and that filling out a form is not campaigning.

But an even more significant section of Erdoes' seminal opinion on what can and cannot be done is that she points out there is no definition in the law of the term "political activity." And that is what some -- or much -- of this case is about.

Augustine clearly made the calculation at some point that in this little-known office she could not afford, as other more well-known officers could, to hire outside operatives to do campaign work. So she asked her employees to do it and more of it than ordinary state employees would do and often in a way that was demanding and even nasty. And that's why we were here last week.

In the end, this became about the problem of having politicians judge other politicians. They hate to do so, believing that there but for the grace of God go they and that karma will out, so they will set the bar as high as they can for an impeachable offense.

The threshold issue, though, is whether Augustine should have resigned out of shame after pleading to three willful violations of state ethics laws. Her lawyer once broached the idea, but it's unclear Augustine ever would have signed off on such a deal, even if a criminal probe was dropped.

It is hard for the public to put this in context with other transgressions that have occurred in Southern Nevada local government where, for instance, the Las Vegas City Council seems to be the locus of business opportunities for the mayor and his extended family, including surrogate son Michael Mack, now departing for perhaps less green pastures.

But at least we now know where the bar is set for impeachment in this state -- and that it is above being a tyrant to your employees and making them do political work, whatever that is. Kathy Augustine's political career is in tatters, so her employees have won and some will say justice has been served.

But another bar has been set, too. And that is this: For elected officials up and down the food chain, it is "Katy bar the door" for what you can ask your employees to do for you and the permanent campaign has now been enshrined in this historic proceeding.