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That's where the question of Senator Clinton and the Skver sect comes in. Hillary Clinton has insisted she played no role in commuting the sentences of the four Hasidim, who stole more than $30 million in government grants, subsidies and loans, and that she did nothing unethical by attending two sessions with the leaders who sought their pardons. The first took place in the Rockland County village of New Square last August, while she was running for the Senate. State party operatives thought the tiny community--which had often voted in a bloc in the past--was a promising one for Hillary in her race against Republican Rick Lazio. Following Hasidic custom, Hillary covered her head and chatted about the village's health-care services from across a coffee table, on which a tall bouquet of flowers served as the traditional screen that Hasidim require between the sexes. As far as anyone knows, that was a campaign event only; no pardons were mentioned.
The next session came four months later, after the sect had delivered nearly 1,400 votes for Hillary and only 12 for Lazio. On the morning of Dec. 22, Grand Rabbi David Twersky and an associate went to the White House and tearfully appealed to the President to pardon Benjamin Berger, David Goldstein, Jacob Elbaum and Kalman Stern. Hillary attended the meeting in the White House Map Room but insists she did not participate in the conversation. "I did not play any role whatsoever," she told the Associated Press. "I had no opinion about it."
Clinton eventually commuted the sentences, but Hillary insists she never discussed the matter with her husband. A chat between President and Senator about pardoning a home-state constituent is no big deal. But federal investigators want to find out if the reduced sentences were traded for support at the ballot box.
What really threw Mrs. Clinton off stride last week was her brother's decision to accept $400,000 to lobby for two controversial clemency petitions: those of Carlos Vignali, a Los Angeles drug dealer, and A. Glenn Braswell, a Florida marketer of dubious health treatments. Rodham, who often spent the night at the White House, insisted last week that he purposely never spoke to his sister or his brother-in-law about his clients.
What he did do for them is unclear, especially in the case of Braswell, convicted of mail fraud, perjury and tax evasion in connection with questionable marketing of his health-care products. Rodham was brought into the case sometime in Clinton's final two weeks as President and was paid $200,000 as a "success fee" when Braswell's pardon came through.
Hugh's work for Vignali was of longer duration, beginning when the drug dealer's father Horacio asked Rodham to work on the clemency application. Rodham, a former public defender in Florida, was reluctant at first, but finally agreed. The elder Vignali, a wealthy Los Angeles businessman, had some sense of politics. He contributed generously to politicians in both parties, beginning in earnest in 1994 shortly before his son was to stand trial on conspiracy and cocaine-distribution charges. Prosecutors said the son deserved no quarter and expressed no remorse. Carlos was a key financier of a drug ring that transported about 800 lbs. of cocaine from L.A. to Minnesota in the early 1990s, and he came across as a blustery bully in tapes of wiretaps. He was sentenced to 15 years behind bars.
