And San Francisco was beaten down, humiliated, made to understand that within her borders the laws could not be enforced against those to whom the “System” granted immunity from punishment.
To secure evidence against bribe-givers, the State granted immunity to bribe-takers who confessed their crimes and joined with the State to bring larger criminals to justice. And the “System’s” agents cried outrage that bribe-takers should go free of punishment.
But the “System” granted immunity from punishment to those who had bribed. And the apologists for the “System” will tolerate no criticism of this sort of immunity.
Other communities have risen against the “System’s” agents, the “bosses,” and the “bosses” have given place to other agents. But few communities, if any, have attacked the “System” as did San Francisco. Had they done so, unquestionably they would have found themselves as ineffective against corruption as San Francisco has been shown to be.
The “System” is confined to no particular State or locality; it permeates our entire public life. Judge Lindsey in Colorado calls it “The Beast.” In California we call it “The Southern Pacific Machine,” for in California the Southern Pacific Company was its chief beneficiary. Other communities call it the “Organization.” The bull does not discover his rope until he strains at it; the community knows little or nothing of the overpowering “System” until it resists. San Francisco resisted and discovered.
The mere bribing of a board of supervisors was not extraordinary. Our newspapers furnish us daily with sorry recital of bribe-taking public officials discovered in other communities. But the effective, searching resistance to bribe-giving which San Francisco offered was extraordinary. It was a new thing in American politics. It compelled the “System” to show its real strength, and that, too, was new in American politics, and extraordinary, also.
The “System” at San Francisco had taken the usual precautions which ordinarily ensure it against successful opposition, or even question. It had, through its agents, selected the candidates for public office, including the District Attorney. With the District Attorney loyal to the “System” the “System” was secure against attack. And even were the District Attorney to resist the “System,” still was the “System” secure, for the “System” could deny the District Attorney, through the public officials it controlled, the funds necessary for successful opposition.
But here again extraordinary circumstances worked for the “System’s” confusion. Not only had the “System” been mistaken in the caliber of the man whom it had permitted to be nominated for District Attorney, but patriotic citizens guaranteed the expenses of effective attack through the District Attorney’s office.
Nevertheless, the “System” would ordinarily have been able to laugh at the attack, and render it abortive, by compelling the citizens who were backing the District Attorney to withdraw their support.
Even at San Francisco, the supporters of the District Attorney felt the force of such attack. Those who supported the Prosecution found themselves harassed in their business ventures, and snubbed in the social circles in which they had moved. When Heney, stricken down in the discharge of his duty, lay at the point of death, a minister of the gospel prayed for the wounded Prosecutor’s recovery. Immediately from the pews came silent expression of disapproval. That pastor refused to be intimidated, refused to join with his fashionable congregation against the Prosecution. He was eventually compelled to resign his pastorate. Rudolph Spreckels, while accounting for every dollar that the Graft Prosecution had expended, asked to be excused from naming those who had subscribed to the fund, lest they be attacked. Ordinarily, those citizens whose instincts had led them to guarantee the District Attorney their support, would have been forced to abandon him.