Ego, Power, Money, Bernie
February 22, 2010
Bernard Kerik had to wait his turn and pass through the metal detector of the federal courthouse in White Plains last Thursday, just like any civilian. The federal marshals, however, still called him, “Commissioner.”
New York City’s 40th police commissioner looked as though he had lost 20 or 30 pounds. His once-massive shoulders had shrunk to normal size.
Beside him was his wife, Hala, whom Kerik ushered into the courtroom, where he was to learn just how long and hard his fall from grace would be. With her long dark hair, heart-shaped face and shapely figure, Kerik’s wife resembled, of all people, Judith Regan, his glamorous book publisher and former mistress who is now terrified of him.
Kerik ignored this reporter, whom he had stopped speaking to months ago. Like all of us who were genuinely fond of Kerik and imagined we knew him, the judge about to take away his freedom for four years struggled to understand him.
Federal Judge Stephen Robinson acknowledged Kerik’s “enormous charm, heroism, character, discipline and good deeds,” but added that he had used his position of “power and influence as the chief law enforcement officer of the greatest and grandest city in America” to lie, steal, and deceive the president of the United States to promote his career and himself.
Kerik’s Achilles heel was, in this reporter’s opinion, money —his love of the almighty buck and his attempt to live a life he couldn’t afford on his salary as a public official.
Robinson stated that Kerik had failed to make the right choice that public servants must make. He himself, the judge noted, would never make the big money that his law assistants do after they leave him and go into the private sector.
As Kerik rose to a position of power and influence as police commissioner of New York City, Robinson indicated that Kerik lost his way. He made new friends, all of whom had more money than he did. All of them, said Robinson, had fancier cars and lived in finer homes.
Judge Robinson then referenced a “salty” email that Kerik wrote to his pal Larry Ray, the go-between for a construction firm with alleged mob ties that sought city business and the always cash-strapped Kerik, who accepted the firm’s paying for $250,000 of renovations to his Bronx apartment.
“I can’t go to the Caribbean or Florida on a three-day stint just because my dick gets hard or because I need a rest,” Kerik lamented to Ray. “I can’t afford to go out every day to eat, to have a million dollar house ... I can't go out and buy a motorcycle or car, or a Rolex watch at the drop of a dime like I've watched you do.”
Of the Bronx apartment, he wrote, “A bullshit $170,000. I had to beg, borrow and suck dick for the down-payment, and I’m still shitting over the $5,000 I need for closing if it happens.”
As Robinson suggested, Kerik felt he deserved to live like his rich friends, and used his position as police commissioner as though the law did not apply to him.
That is what the Greeks called hubris — overarching pride and arrogance, which invariably leads to a fall. In that, Kerik has plenty of company.
Listen to last week’s apology from another fallen big shot: “I convinced myself that normal rules did not apply. I thought I could get away with whatever I wanted to. I thought I worked hard my entire life and deserved all the temptations around me.” That was Tiger Woods.
For the past 15 years, the job of New York Police Commissioner has grown in power, stature and glamour to that of celebrity status. That’s especially true since 9/11.
From 1994 to 1996, Police Commissioner Bill Bratton held court at Elaine’s restaurant, hobnobbed with the rich and famous, and flew free on private jets. His fun ended when his boss, Mayor Rudy Giuliani, felt overshadowed, and used Bratton’s freebies as an excuse to dump him.
Howard Safir, who served as police commissioner from 1996 to 2000, made himself seem important by having detectives follow him about Police Plaza, clearing corridors of civilians as he passed while relaying the commissioner’s whereabouts into walkie- talkies as though his life were in danger.
At the same time, Safir had his nose up against the glass when it came to mingling with the rich and famous.
Even current commissioner Ray Kelly, who enjoys a 70 per cent approval rating, has become intoxicated with the job.
Unlike Kerik, Kelly’s issue isn’t money, although Kelly does appear to enjoy its trappings. [Check out last Aug. 30th NY Times article on his Charvet ties. Or his reputed trip on Regis Philbin’s private jet to a Notre Dame football game last fall.]