Thursday, January 29, 2004
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Backstory: When Nevada was a bullseye

By Michael Green

Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you.

Nevadans could reasonably make that statement at one time. Whether they still can is uncertain. But recent events provided a reminder of how things used to be.

Nevada's attorneys argued against the nuclear waste dump before the U.S. Court of Appeals in Washington, D.C. They left hopeful that the judges were appalled at some of the legerdemain the government has used to justify the repository.

Besides, they have to be optimistic: The courts seem to be Nevada's last chance to stop the dump. Senate Republicans wouldn't join John Ensign in opposing it, so the congressional votes aren't there. Perhaps President Kerry, Clark, Edwards or Sharpton (gotcha--now pay attention) might feel differently than the current White House occupant.

If George W. Bush approved the dump because he was mad at Nevada, he shouldn't have been: Our four electoral votes in 2000 put him in the White House, for which a slight majority of Nevada voters need several lashes with a wet spaghetti.

Besides, candidate Bush said he would base his decision on "sound science." Since the evidence suggested he would lie, and Nevada Republican leaders didn't care, he may have figured that majority for him meant we want nuclear waste. If you still think he went to war with Iraq over weapons of mass destruction, you might agree.

But Nevadans long thought Washington had painted a bullseye on their state. The nuclear waste repository was just another example.

Many Nevadans have made political hay of such arguments. Late in the 19th century, they claimed eliminating silver as currency was designed to destroy the state. When the federal government trained its sights on gambling and organized crime, Nevadans again felt like victims.

Just as Southern politicians have spent generations assuring constituents that everyone north of the Mason-Dixon line has horns, our elected officials have capitalized on the state's mistreatment as they lamented it. Nevada probably should have been emphasizing the dangers of transporting waste through other places instead of claiming to be a federal target, which is of no interest in 49 other states. Claiming to be victims of government disdain was not only good politics, but reasonably accurate.

Harry Claiborne would have vouched for that. For many years, he was Las Vegas' leading defense attorney. But he did more than that. When he started practicing, lawyers rarely specialized. Some did defense work in those days before public defenders because judges made them or they felt obligated. Most of the accused were too poor to pay.

One client who could afford Claiborne was Benny Binion. The rumor has been that the Horseshoe owner pulled strings--he had more strings than a cautious guitarist--to get Claiborne appointed federal judge in 1978. FBI agent-in-charge Joe Yablonsky apparently couldn't believe a federal judge dined regularly with Binion, who had what might be euphemistically called a past.

Claiborne felt the feds were out to get him. He was right, if relying on Mustang Ranch brothel owner Joe Conforte's testimony proves anything. When the government makes a deal with a pimp to bring down a federal judge, chances are the goal is to get the judge.

This shocked Claiborne. Visiting with friends in law enforcement, he would marvel at his treatment. He pointed out that as a former defense attorney, he knew all the tricks, so he thought of himself as understanding toward prosecutors and tough on the defense.

In the end, Claiborne became the first federal judge since the Civil War to be impeached, convicted and removed from office--over his taxes. Ideally, his taxes would have been totally clean. Maybe other skeletons lurked in his closets. Anyway, obituaries across the country emphasized his wrongdoing.

That was fair, but so was Claiborne's response. Of course he represented questionable characters. Some found him questionable, too. But Nevada was--and often still is--treated differently than other places. We were the first state to make gambling legal. We made it easy, as Britney Spears showed, to get married and unmarried. We even allow prostitution in 12 counties, making Nevada the only place in America to find a hooker. Ahem.

Yet the world has changed. Almost every state now offers some form of legal gambling. Nevada gaming companies have spread around the world and are well-respected. The state's gaming regulation is a model for others.

So, Bush the Rug chose Nevada not to appease right-wing hatemongers accusing the state of being sinful or to make us a dumping ground, but because his puppeteers thought it made sense--and the judges who could stop the dump are federal appointees. Harry Claiborne might have been treated differently 25 years after becoming a federal judge--or might not have been appointed. And the casino he represented, run by the daughter of a man some called a hoodlum, now belongs to an international gaming corporation run by a former Harvard professor.

Be paranoid. You know how Bush feels about professors.