While The Gettin's Good

By Richard Lacayo

Chicago politics may look just as slippery. Virginia politics is certainly more fractious. But for sheer, lip-smacking fun, there's still nothing that can beat Louisiana's. For nearly a quarter-century, Edwin W. Edwards has been much of the reason why. In four terms as Governor, Edwards, who was tried twice for fraud and racketeering but never convicted, who ran up huge gambling debts while Governor and who squired so many young women while still in his first marriage that he was dubbed "the Silver Zipper," has made Baton Rouge the undisputed capital of rascally political folklore.

That the fast-talking Governor did it without ever making a public act of contrition was one more reason that Louisiana was stunned last week when, midway through his present term, he made a tearful announcement before the state legislature that he would not seek re-election. For once, the Governor had just a few cryptic words of explanation: "I feel it's time to move on to something else. When you learn -- and you will -- what I have in mind, you'll understand."

! Louisianians immediately came up with some preliminary understandings of their own. One was that Edwards must have figured that voters were losing patience with his adventures along the frontiers of ethical conduct. Though never found guilty of any crime, he has been the subject of at least 20 criminal investigations and has twice beat charges that he tried, while out of office, to rig the state's program to certify hospitals -- pocketing $1.9 million in the process. During Edwards' 1991 campaign, a closely watched race against former Klansman David Duke, one of his supporters' favorite bumper stickers read, Vote for the Crook. It's Important.

Edwards now suffers from negative ratings of about 63% and yet another investigation. Though not a target himself, he has testified before a Baton Rouge grand jury looking into favoritism in the awarding of gaming licenses for riverboat gambling. His critics also complain that his four children, all of whom have pursued business opportunities with the state's newly legalized casinos, were in a position to gain from his success in pushing legalized casino gaming through the legislature last year.

Another theory is that being Governor just wasn't much fun anymore. During his first two terms, from 1972 to 1980, Edwards was able to duplicate a populist strategy of his fabled predecessor Huey Long: tax the thriving oil and gas companies to fund generous patronage and state programs, much of it to the benefit of his coalition of poorer whites, French-speaking Cajuns and blacks. When oil prices took a dive in the mid-'80s, the good times stopped rolling. Edwards "was a sort of perpetual Santa Claus," says Ed Renwick, a professor of political science at Loyola University of New Orleans, "but now he's got to continually fight to balance the budget." That's dull work for a 66-year-old man who just took on a 29-year-old bride. "I will leave you as a politician," Edwards orated last week. "Sometime, hopefully, history will elevate me to the status of a statesman." Pending that, he may have to settle for King of the Rogues.

With reporting by S.C. Gwynne/Austin