Bob Menendez needs to explain himself to NJ voters. He has to testify | Mike Kelly

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The Bob Menendez trial needs to call a special witness. This witness can clear up the mysteries in the case — most of them, anyway. He might even save himself and his fractured legacy.

His name is Bob Menendez.

It’s time New Jersey's senior U.S. senator explained himself.

In an opening statement at the trial on Wednesday afternoon in federal court in lower Manhattan, Assistant U.S. Attorney Lara Pomerantz, one of the prosecutors, told jurors that Menendez "betrayed the people he was supposed to serve by taking bribes" and that the case is really "about a public official who put greed first" and "put his power up for sale."

"This was not politics as usual," Pomerantz said. "This was politics for profit."

In his own opening statement, Menendez's attorney, Avi Weitzman, offered an entirely different portrait of what took place. Menendez wasn't taking bribes, Weitzman said. The senator offered "constituent services" and "entirely for the benefit of New Jerseyans." And all those gold bars and cash and the luxury car that Menendez is charged with taking? Well, Menendez is now blaming his wife, Nadine. The good senator says Nadine kept him in the dark.

So where's the truth?

The case for Menendez to testify: Will he?

United States Senator, Bob Menendez (center), arrives at Daniel Patrick Moynihan U.S. Courthouse where he will be on trial for bribery and corruption charges. The jury selection for the trial is expected to start today, Monday, May 13, 2024.
United States Senator, Bob Menendez (center), arrives at Daniel Patrick Moynihan U.S. Courthouse where he will be on trial for bribery and corruption charges. The jury selection for the trial is expected to start today, Monday, May 13, 2024.

We know that defendants are not required to testify at a trial. In fact, defendants don't even have to offer any sort of evidence or explanation. The burden of proof is the responsibility of prosecutors. Defendants are considered innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.

But Menendez is different — not in a legal sense, of course, but as a matter of principle. He's a public official. He owes the public who elected him an explanation for why he is charged with breaking the trust that binds all officials to their constituents.

Getting Menendez to talk is a long shot. His attorneys say he may take the witness stand. But anyone who actually believes that Menendez is planning to place himself in the witness box does not know how this man has essentially avoided numerous chances over the past decade to explain himself.

He’s the political equivalent of a ghost.

Once upon a time, Menendez was considered a rising star in the Democratic Party. He was smart, articulate, a voice for a growing Latino constituency. He was even shortlisted as a possible vice presidential pick when Al Gore ran for the White House.

But that was nearly a quarter-century ago — another generation.

Back then, Menendez, in his mid-40s, was already a leader in the House of Representatives. As vice chair of the House Democratic caucus, he was one of the go-to Democrats for comments on foreign and domestic policy.

And why not? Menendez spoke from the heart. And he knew what he was talking about.

Since then, he has evolved into a very different man who seems locked by his own self-imposed set of political and legal handcuffs.

In the early 2000s, it was a series of ethics concerns stemming from Menendez’s seemingly irresponsible decision to rent property he owned in Hudson County to a nonprofit agency that received federal funding. In 2015, with Menendez now in the U.S. Senate, it was a federal bribery and fraud indictment, charging him with taking free trips, campaign cash and other gifts in return for his questionable intervention with a variety of federal agencies on behalf of a Florida physician.

During a nearly two-month trial in 2017 on those bribery charges, Menendez slipped into his own cone of silence. Gone was the gregarious personality, replaced by the thousand-yard stare of paranoia.

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During his trial, Menendez didn’t take the witness stand. He barely said hello to anyone outside of his family and a few close buddies who showed up to watch his trial at the federal courthouse in Newark. Away from court, he appeared at events only under the most controlled circumstances, with his staff making sure nagging journalists were kept away.

Menendez spoke only after the jury said it could not reach a verdict and the judge declared a mistrial. But he offered no believable explanation for his behavior. Instead, he blurted a creepy faux-mobster threat “to those who were digging my political grave so they could jump into my seat.”

“I know who you are, and I won’t forget you,” Menendez said.

This wasn’t a U.S. senator offering insight. It was just another Jersey guy trying to pretend to talk like Tony Soprano. The sad coda to this story is that Menendez was so deep in his own echo chamber that he had no idea that his attempt at tough-guy talk resulted in gales of laughter across the political spectrum. America chuckled. Menendez seethed in search of enemies.

Now, incredibly, things are worse. Menendez is on trial in federal court in Manhattan for allegedly playing a key role in an expansive international bribery conspiracy with his wife, Nadine, and three New Jersey businessmen.

In a multiple-count indictment, Menendez is charged with taking gold bars, cash and a Mercedes-Benz luxury car in return for illegally acting as a lobbyist-like representative for the governments of Egypt and Qatar and for seeking to influence criminal probes in New Jersey of the three businessmen who were also indicted.

One of those businessmen, Jose Uribe of Clifton, New Jersey, has since pleaded guilty and promises to cooperate with federal authorities. Nadine Menendez will be tried separately, possibly in July, after she recovers from surgery for breast cancer.

Menendez is now 70. If convicted, he faces the possibility of spending the rest of his life in prison. In the U.S. Senate, Menendez had to give up his post as chair of the Foreign Relations Committee. Even his Democratic friends don’t want him to attend classified briefings. And Sen. John Fetterman, the Pennsylvania Democrat, has called on him to resign.

Meanwhile, Menendez is facing reelection in November — as if that's even possible now. He’s not running in the Democratic primary, scheduled for June 4. But he hasn’t ruled out running as an independent in the November election, even though his approval ratings are worse than those of former Gov. Chris Christie’s at the height of the Bridgegate scandal.

In other words, Menendez’s political life is comatose, awaiting his decision to pull the plug.

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What about Menendez's New Jersey voters?

But what about his responsibility to the people of New Jersey?

This trial may be about Bob Menendez, but it’s also about his decades-long connection with New Jersey voters. In fact, the heart of the prosecution’s case against Menendez can be reduced to this fundamental question: Who was Bob Menendez really serving as a U.S. senator?

He's supposedly serving — and representing — New Jersey. Such is the basic civic contract between an elected official and voters. That connection stipulates he's not supposed to take freebies — bribes — in return for doing favors. He’s not supposed to try to put his thumb on the scales of justice and interfere with criminal investigations of his friends. And he’s not supposed to act as an advocate on behalf of a foreign government.

So how does Menendez explain himself?

United States Senator, Bob Menendez walks towards the Daniel Patrick Moynihan U.S. Courthouse where he will be on trial for bribery and corruption charges. The jury selection for the trial is expected to start today, Monday, May 13, 2024.
United States Senator, Bob Menendez walks towards the Daniel Patrick Moynihan U.S. Courthouse where he will be on trial for bribery and corruption charges. The jury selection for the trial is expected to start today, Monday, May 13, 2024.

Years ago, an especially talented defense attorney offered me an explanation of his differing strategies between representing ordinary crooks and public officials at trials. This attorney said most ordinary crooks should keep their mouths shut and not take the witness stand. But anyone with a public, tax-supported job — a cop, a building inspector, a U.S. senator, even a president — has the duty to face the jury and talk.

As this wise attorney said: “The jury expects to hear from them.”

So now, it’s Bob Menendez’s turn. His trial began this week at the federal courthouse in lower Manhattan, just a short walk from the New York state courthouse where Donald Trump is on trial and facing the same question of whether to testify and explain himself.

Menendez can sit in silence in his courtroom chair. Or he can take the witness stand.

He can be a U.S. senator.

Or he can behave like just another ordinary Jersey crook.

Who does he want to be?

Mike Kelly is an award-winning columnist for NorthJersey.com, part of the USA TODAY Network, as well as the author of three critically acclaimed nonfiction books and a podcast and documentary film producer. To get unlimited access to his insightful thoughts on how we live life in the Northeast, please subscribe or activate your digital account today.

Email: kellym@northjersey.com

This article originally appeared on NorthJersey.com: Bob Menendez trial: Will NJ senator testify, explain himself?