On our behalf, the state auditor wields vast investigative powers and a big stick. It is the job of his office to ferret out mismanagement, impropriety and waste, protecting our money and our resources. It’s a critical function, but one being diminished by recent hostilities at the Legislature.
Auditor Les Kondo just wrapped up three days testifying before a House Investigative Committee that is examining two of Kondo’s audits, of the state Department of Land and Natural Resources and the Agribusiness Development Corp. What has drawn focus, though, is not the specific findings of the audits, but the head-butting between Kondo and House Majority Leader Della Au Belatti, the committee chairwoman.
Kondo was subpoenaed to appear, although he says all they had to do was ask and he would have shown up. Belatti has repeatedly reminded him that he could have a lawyer at his side, to which he has replied, why would he need one?
“What are you investigating and why?” Kondo asked at one point. “The sneaky, underhanded approach is just not appropriate.”
The next day, Belatti ended a testy exchange with the put-down: “Thank you for being unresponsive at this moment and being uncooperative with the committee.” She also said he should expect to be called back to the hot seat as the investigation continues into October.
As much fun as it can be to witness such verbal sparring, it is not at all amusing to consider the harm the squabbling can do to the integrity of an office that should be above politics.
This wasn’t Kondo’s first run-in with the House. Just in April, a panel appointed by Speaker Scott Saiki released a harshly critical report that faulted the performance of Kondo’s office, and Kondo in particular for supposedly creating a dysfunctional workplace and generally being unqualified to lead. Kondo shot back with a fierce defense of his office and the accusation that Saiki had predetermined the panel’s findings. Indeed, Saiki had already introduced bills to cut the budget of the auditor’s office in half and to put the auditor’s salary under the Legislature’s control.
At times like these we remember Marion Higa, who retired as state auditor in 2012 after leading the office for 21 years and working there for 41. Her audits were often harsh, always meticulous, and her targets found it hard to crack their pointed criticisms. Some of us thought she had a superhero’s cape.
The administrations of three governors came under her laser eye and at times she wasn’t their favorite person. She got into it with former Gov. Linda Lingle, who wanted Higa investigated after her stinging audit of investment practices at the Department of Budget and Finance. Higa swung back, but no blood was spilled and the office emerged with dignity intact.
That’s what we hope for in the current auditor-lawmaker situation.
Kondo is a legislative appointee, given an eight-year term in 2016, but this is not a happy family situation. It’s almost as though Mom and Dad are arguing, not privately, politely and productively, but in the middle of the street in front of the neighbors. It’s hard to come back from such a public display of animosity.
What would help considerably would be for Belatti and the House committee to make it clear what they’re after. If the aim is to remove Kondo from office — which would take a two-thirds vote by a joint session of the Legislature — say it already.
“Let’s put our cards on the table,” as Kondo has said.
Until now all we’ve seen is a lot of smoke, with the implication that there’s a fire somewhere.