I'VE been readin' a book by Lincoln Steffens on 'The Shame of the Cities'.
Steffens means well but, like all reformers, he don't know how to
make distinctions. He can't see no difference between honest graft and
dishonest graft and, consequent, he gets things all mixed up. There's
the biggest kind of a difference between political looters and
politicians who make a fortune out of politics by keepin' their eyes
wide open. The looter goes in for himself alone without considerin' his
organization or his city. The politician looks after his own interests,
the organization's interests, and the city's interests all at the same
time. See the distinction? For instance, I ain't no looter. The looter
hogs it. I never hogged. I made my pile in politics, but, at the same
time, 1 served the organization and got more big improvements for New
York City than any other livin' man. And I never monkeyed with the penal
code.
The difference between a looter and a practical politician is the
difference between the Philadelphia Republican gang and Tammany Hall.
Steffens seems to think they're both about the same; but he's all wrong.
The Philadelphia crowd runs up against the penal code. Tammany don't.
The Philadelphians ain't satisfied with robbin' the bank of all its gold
and paper money. They stay to pick up the nickels and pennies and the
cop comes and nabs them. Tammany ain't no such fool. Why, I remember,
about fifteen or twenty years ago, a Republican superintendent of the
Philadelphia almshouse stole the zinc roof off the buildin' and sold
it for junk. That was carryin' things to excess. There's a limit to
everything, and the Philadelphia Republicans go beyond the limit. It
seems like they can't be cool and moderate like real politicians. It
ain't fair, therefore, to class Tammany men with the Philadelphia gang.
Any man who undertakes to write political books should never for a
moment lose sight of the distinction between honest graft and dishonest
graft, which I explained in full in another talk. If he puts all kinds
of graft on the same level, he'll make the fatal mistake that Steffens
made and spoil his book.
A big city like New York or Philadelphia or Chicago might be compared
to a sort of Garden of Eden, from a political point of view. It's an
orchard full of beautiful apple trees. One of them has got a big sign
on it, marked: "Penal Code Tree--Poison." The other trees have lots of
apples on them for all. Yet the fools go to the Penal Code Tree. Why?
For the reason, I guess, that a cranky child refuses to eat good food
and chews up a box of matches with relish. I never had any temptation to
touch the Penal Code Tree. The other apples are good enough for me, and
0 Lord! how many of them there are in a big city!
Steffens made one good point in his book. He said he found that
Philadelphia, ruled almost entirely by Americans, was more corrupt than
New York, where the Irish do almost all the governin'. I could have told
him that before he did any investigatin' if he had come to me. The Irish
was born to rule, and they're the honestest people in the world. Show me
the Irishman who would steal a roof off an almhouse! He don't exist.
Of course, if an Irishman had the political pull and the roof was much
worn, he might get the city authorities to put on a new one and get the
contract for it himself, and buy the old roof at a bargain--but that's
honest graft. It's goin' about the thing like a gentleman, and there's
more money in it than in tearin' down an old roof and cartin' it to the
junkman's--more money and no penal code.
One reason why the Irishman is more honest in politics than many Sons of
the Revolution is that he is grateful to the country and the city that
gave him protection and prosperity when he was driven by oppression from
the Emerald Isle. Say, that sentence is fine, ain't it? I'm goin' to get
some literary feller to work it over into poetry for next St. Patrick's
Day dinner.
Yes, the Irishman is grateful. His one thought is to serve the city
which gave him a home. He has this thought even before he lands in New
York, for his friends here often have a good place in one of the city
departments picked out for him while he is still in the old country. Is
it any wonder that he has a tender spot in his heart for old New York
when he is on its salary list the mornin' after he lands?
Now, a few words on the general subject of the so called shame of
cities. I don't believe that the government of our cities is any worse,
in proportion to opportunities, than it was fifty years ago. I'll
explain what I mean by "in proportion to opportunities." A half
a century ago, our cities were small and poor. There wasn't many
temptations lyin' around for politicians. There was hardly anything to
steal, and hardly any opportunities for even honest graft. A city could
count its money every night before goin' to bed, and if three cents
was missin', all the fire bells would be rung. What credit was there in
bein' honest under them circumstances'? It makes me tired to hear of old
codgers back in the thirties or forties boastin' that they retired from
politics without a dollar except what they earned in their profession or
business. If they lived today, with all the existin' opportunities, they
would be just the same as twentieth-century politicians. There ain't any
more honest people in the world just now than the convicts in Sing
Sing. Not one of them steals anything. Why? Because they can't. See the
application?
Understand, I ain't defendin' politicians of today who steal. The
politician who steals is worse than a thief. He is a fool. With the
grand opportunities all around for the man with a political pull,
there's no excuse for stealin' a cent. The point I want to make is
that if there is some stealin' in politics, it don't mean that the
politicians of 1905 are, as a class, worse than them of 1835. It just
means that the old-timers had nothin' to steal, while the politicians
now are surrounded by all kinds of temptations and some of them
naturally--the fool ones--buck up against the penal code.