Former Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver left court on May 3, after he was sentenced to 12 years in prison for his conviction last November on seven counts of corruption, including extortion, honest-services fraud and money laundering.
By Mary Reinholz and Lincoln Anderson
Former state Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver, once one of New York’s most powerful politicians and a lifelong resident of the Lower East Side, was sentenced by a federal judge on Tuesday to 12 years in prison for his conviction last November on seven counts of corruption, including extortion, honest-services fraud and money laundering.
He had been found guilty after a five-week jury trial of abusing his public office to provide preferential treatment to a cancer researcher at Columbia University and two real estate developers. In turn, they provided lucrative referrals to two Manhattan law firms that had retained Silver as a part-time attorney since around 2000. Silver was found guilty of raking in $5 million in kickbacks through the two schemes.
Judge Valerie E. Caproni, who imposed the hefty sentence, acknowledged some of Silver’s good deeds to his constituents in the 65th Assembly District, such as his advocacy for tenants and help for locals after 9/11 and Superstorm Sandy.
But Caproni also characterized the 72-year-old Democrat as a “scheming politician” who was simply trying to hang on to power. She ordered Silver to turn himself in to authorities by noon on July 1, saying she wanted to strike fear into the hearts of other politicians who might succumb to corruption by making it clear that “they could spend their golden years in an orange jumpsuit.”
No one else was indicted in the case. Dr. Robert Taub, who received $500,000 in state grants that Silver funneled to the doctor’s mesothelioma research center in return for referrals, served as a witness for the prosecution.
The media swarmed the fallen pol as he exited the court.
“He’s trying to get out the back way!” somebody shouted from deep within the pack of frenzied news hounds. A few reporters climbed over parked vehicles to hurl questions at Silver such as, “How do you feel now?” and “What are you going to say to your wife tonight?”
The last was a reference to recent claims by the government that Silver was also a philandering husband to his wife of nearly 50 years, Rosa. She attended the sentencing but did not leave with him. Silver has been accused of engaging in affairs with two women for whom he got jobs, a charge Silver’s defense team claims is false and salacious.
“They’re like piranha,” a passerby murmured with amazement, after catching a glimpse of Silver enveloped by the stampeding media mob. A couple of husky security guards helped Silver get into a waiting yellow cab. Before taking off, he responded to one of his interrogators who wanted to know what his plans were.
“I believe in the justice system, and we’ll see whatever remedies the system makes available,” he said, his voice faltering a bit. His legal team said he would appeal.
Left-wing comic and activist Randy Credico attended Silver’s sentencing, and described Caproni’s ruling as “very unfair” and denounced U.S. attorney Preet Bharara as a “sadistic narcissist,” looking for headlines.
“Why doesn’t he go after somebody like Senator Chuck Schumer, who has made millions off of Wall Street?” Credico asked.
Credico said he has known Silver for years and credited him with helping his campaign to revise the draconian Rockefeller drug laws.
Bharara had initially asked the judge to lock Silver up for more than 14 years, considerably less than the maximum sentence of well over a century, but longer than any other New York politician has ever gotten. Silver’s dozen-year sentence is two years less than what former Brooklyn Assemblymember William Boyland, Jr. got last year in a corruption case.
Silver’s attorneys called on Caproni to temper justice with mercy, noting their client has battled prostate cancer, now in remission, and spent nearly 40 years trying to assist people in crisis on the Lower East Side.
“He has helped people and tried to lift them up during dire times,” said attorney Joel Cohen, who asked for a sentence of community service with little or no incarceration.
Cohen noted some 100 letters sent to the judge requesting leniency for Silver. Several were from high-profile New Yorkers, including former Mayor David Dinkins and Randi Weingarten, president of the American Federation of Teachers, attesting to his character and commitment to progressive causes. But it was to no avail.
Just before she gave him 12 years behind bars, Caproni told Silver sternly: “I hope the sentence I impose on you will make the next politician hesitate before he accepts a kickback or bribe.”
Bharara, who sat in on the sentence in a back-row seat, later issued a statement: “Today’s swift sentence is a just and fitting end to Sheldon Silver’s long career of corruption.”
Silver, however, may wind up doing no time at all, should the U.S. Supreme Court overturn the conviction of former Governor Robert McDonnell of Virginia, who was convicted with his wife, Maureen, on corruption charges in 2014. The eight justices seem sympathetic to McDonnell’s case, reported the Washington Post on April 28, noting they were concerned about federal corruption laws criminalizing behavior that’s considered “everyday or routine” for politicians who perform services for benefactors.
“For better or for worse, [this] puts at risk behavior that is common,” said Justice Stephen G. Breyer, who along with Chief Justice John G. Roberts, Jr. suggested that the federal corruption laws are so vague that they might be unconstitutional.
A verdict in the Virginia case could come at the end of June, shortly before the date when Silver is scheduled to begin his sentence. If it’s favorable for the McDonnells, Silver’s attorneys could negotiate a deal to keep Silver out of prison, said Gerald Lefcourt, a prominent Manhattan criminal defense lawyer who has represented Yippie leader Abbie Hoffman and several convicted New York politicians.
“What is a quid pro quo? It’s so vague and the [laws] give so much power to the prosecution,” Lefcourt said in a telephone interview. “How do you know the difference between what’s politics as usual and what’s criminal? It’s a slippery slope.”
He noted that Dr. Taub said in Silver’s case that he did not consider their dealings to be a quid pro quo situation.
Even if Silver stays out of his prison, his reputation is in ruins, destroyed by a media that “tarred and feathered” him during his prosecution, said Democratic strategist Hank Sheinkopf. He compared the “bloodletting” against pols like Silver to the Tammany Hall era of Mayor Jimmy Walker and, more recently, to that of former Mayor Ed Koch, when a prosecutor named Rudolph Giuliani rose to prominence by sparking the city’s Parking Violations Bureau scandal in the 1980s. It led to the suicide of Queens Borough President Donald Manes.
“Prosecutors need something to do and there is corruption out there and headlines to be made. But these scandals don’t make New York look good,” Sheinkopf said, adding they also might be a deterrent to young people deciding on careers in politics under constant scrutiny. “Politics isn’t noble anymore,” he said.
Another staunch Silver ally over the years, Assemblymember Richard Gottfried, said, “The convictions of former Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver, former state Senate Majority Leader Dean Skelos and other public officials in recent years are disheartening. While most people in public service would never abuse their official position for personal gain, no one is above the law. I believe it’s clear that we should end outside income for legislators.”
