Reprinted from Bill Moyers Website
Debbie Wasserman Schultz
(Image by (From Wikimedia) Gage Skidmore, Author: Gage Skidmore) Details Source DMCA
Return with us now to the saga of Debbie Wasserman Schultz and the soul of the Democratic Party.
First, a quick recap: Rep. Wasserman Schultz (D-FL), chair of the Democratic National Committee, also has been an advocate for the payday loan industry. The website Think Progress even described her as the "top Democratic ally" of "predatory payday lenders." You know -- the bottom-feeding bloodsuckers of the working poor. Yes, them.
Low-income workers living from paycheck to paycheck, especially women and minorities, are the payday lenders' prime targets -- easy pickings because they're often desperate. Twelve million Americans reportedly borrow nearly $50 billion a year through payday loans, at rates that can soar above 300 percent, sometimes even beyond 500 percent. Bethany McLean at The Atlantic recently reported that the government's Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB) studied millions of payday loans and found that "67 percent went to borrowers with seven or more transactions a year and that a majority of those borrowers paid more in fees than the amount of their initial loan."
Yet when the CFPB was drawing up new rules to make it harder for payday predators to feast on the poor, Rep. Wasserman Schultz co-sponsored a bill to delay those new rules by two years. How, you ask, could the head of the party's national committee embrace such an appalling exploitation of working people?
Just follow the money. Last year, the payday loan industry spent $3.5 million lobbying; and as we wrote two weeks ago, in Wasserman Schultz's home state, since 2009, payday lenders have bought protection from Democrats and Republicans alike by contributing $2.5 million or so to candidates from both parties, including her. That's how "Representative" Wasserman Schultz, among others, wound up representing the predators instead of the poor.
That position became a major issue in her campaign for reelection to the House this year -- she has a primary opponent for the first time since she entered Congress -- and was even threatening the prospect of her continuing as DNC chair and presiding over the Democratic National Convention next month in Philadelphia. More than 40,000 have signed a petition calling for her removal from that post.
Donald Trump gets it. He has roiled and humiliated and conquered an out-of-touch Republican establishment in Washington that also ignored the popular uprising against corporate domination and crony capitalism, and now GOP titans such as Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell and Speaker of the House Paul Ryan, spear carriers for Big Money, are being hauled around the talk-show circuit in Trump's tumbrel, eating crow and swearing fealty to the misogynistic, bigoted and pathologically lying brute who bestrides their party.
Democratic insiders like Wasserman Schultz, however, continued to whistle past the graveyard, believing that the well-funded and well-connected Clinton machine -- and general fear of a Trump regime -- were enough to carry them to victory in November, despite the grass-roots disgust with a party that reeks of rot from the top. Once the champions of people who came home from work with hands dirty from toil and sweat, too many establishment Democrats went over to the dark side, taking up the cause of the well-manicured executives (think: Goldman Sachs) who write the checks and the mercenaries who deliver them (for a substantial cut, of course).
The lust for loot which now defines the Democratic establishment became pronounced in the Bill Clinton years, when the Clinton-friendly Democratic Leadership Council (DLC) abandoned its liberal roots and embraced "market-based solutions" that led to deregulation, tax breaks, and subsidies for the 1 percent. Seeking to fill coffers emptied by the loss of support from a declining labor movement, Democrats rushed into the arms of big business and crony capitalists.
Another case in point (and, alas, there are many): the Democratic governor of Connecticut, Dan Malloy, who seems to treat his state's corporate residents far better than the one in 10 of his citizens who live at or below the poverty line.
Sirota reported:
"Malloy's decision to appoint Wade to such a powerful regulatory post on the eve of the merger was not made in a vacuum," Sirota reported. "It came after employees of Cigna, its lobbying firm Robinson & Cole and Anthem delivered more than $1.3 million to national and state political groups affiliated with Malloy, including the Democratic Governors Association (DGA), the Connecticut Democratic Party, Malloy's own gubernatorial campaign and a political action committee supporting Connecticut Democrats" [our italics].
Since Malloy's first successful run for governor in the 2010 election cycle, donors from the insurance companies and the lobbying firm have given more than $2 million to Malloy-linked groups, according to the figures compiled by PoliticalMoneyLine and the National Institute on Money In State Politics. Almost half that cash has come in since 2015, the year the merger was announced.
Sirota now reports that since his investigation first was published, the state has "formally denied open records requests for information about their meetings with Cigna and Anthem, and declared that 'any' documents about the health insurance companies' proposed merger that haven't already been made public will be kept secret." His FOIA request was turned down "one day after Anthem requested [state insurance commissioner] Wade approve an average 26 percent increase in health insurance premiums for individual plans." So much for transparency.
And while we're in Connecticut, let's also take a look at what Malloy is doing for the world's biggest hedge fund -- Bridgewater Associates, based in his state, with an estimated worth of $150 billion. The founder of the firm, Ray Dalio, is the richest man in Connecticut, by one estimate weighing in at $14.3 billion.
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).