ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times

DATE: Sunday, March 30, 1997                 TAG: 9704010009
SECTION: EDITORIAL                PAGE: 3    EDITION: METRO 
COLUMN: WILLIAM SAFIRE
SOURCE: WILLIAM SAFIRE


BANANAGATE AND HUBBELLGATE

TWO WEEKS ago, veteran right-wing tycoon and philanthropist Carl Lindner of Chiquita Brands was spotted giving $415,000 to the Democrats in hopes of getting the World Trade Organization to clear the way for Chiquita to make a bundle. Time magazine's Michael Weisskopf and Viveca Novak advanced the story last week. Chiquita worked with the Democratic National Committee to steer another half-million dollars into the Democratic maw through two dozen state parties - avoiding the scrutiny given federal campaigns.

When donors go to great lengths to duck disclosure, they usually have something to hide. In this case, it was Chiquita's need to get President Clinton to bring American trade power to bear, even though few U.S. jobs were involved. Lindner is a rock-ribbed Republican, a big giver to the GOP for years; the very quiet largess to the other political side helped guarantee that Clinton would trounce the Europeans in trade.

It began April 12, 1996, the day after U.S. Trade Representative Mickey Kantor asked the WTO to take up Chiquita's grievance, on which the body ruled favorably last week. Within 24 hours, notes Time, Lindner and his men began shoveling heavy money into Democratic coffers in two dozen states.

Kantor, Clinton's 1992 campaign manager, insists to me from Bangkok it was a staff recommendation: ``I had no earthly idea of his contributions. I was once asked by somebody in the White House - no, I won't say who - should he meet with Lindner, and I said, `No, you should not.'''

Lindner not only met Clinton, but turned out to be one of the Lincoln Bedroom 900. And after its political investment of a measly million, Chiquita got U.S. sponsorship for a ruling that profits it a bunch.

Clinton has that Midas touch. Turn to his intimate, Webster Hubbell, who was able to multiply his earning power fivefold as the jailhouse loomed.

Just before entering the slammer on Aug. 7, 1995, the man who may hold the secrets that could bring Clinton down sent an intermediary to Michael Carlisle of the William Morris agency in New York. On Sept. 28, 1995, Hubbell signed a contract with Harper Collins for a $125,000 advance for a quickie book.

The publisher paid the felon $41,667 on signing and $20,000 more in May 1996, which it is now trying to get back. Other providers of the more than $500,000 Hubbell received while he was deciding to clam up have been more understanding.

Hubbell did turn out a work product in jail, which is more than he did for some other ``clients'' - thousands of pages of rambling ruminations on a yellow pad, plus answers to editors' queries and pleas for ``more compelling'' material.

Most of the manuscript was recently delivered under subpoena to the independent counsel, who is belatedly trying to establish a connection between Clinton and the college friend of Carlisle's who brought the agent the proposal.

What do the astounding financial successes of Chiquita Banana and Webster Hubbell have in common?

Only this: If you have a really nice bowl of golden-hued fruit to contribute to the flecked Clinton cause, you can expect your government to make your case before the world.

Similarly, if you have information to withhold that could break the Whitewater case, you can expect to find Asian wheeler-dealers, financial cash cows and as-yet-unknown cutouts making deals for you that can bail the sleaziest fraud out of the most horrific hole.

- NEW YORK TIMES NEWS SERVICE


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